


Sad Guitar

by spotty8ee



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 11:25:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13030023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spotty8ee/pseuds/spotty8ee
Summary: Miguel never made it home before sunrise.





	1. Fresh Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, this story was on I was thinking about for a while. I've basically extended Hector's life a while and killed Miguel, so you know. I've also made up a lot of lore ideas, though I'm worried about how fast this story seems to go and if the characters are in character. So any ideas and opinions would be a great help! 
> 
> Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

Water dripping into the pool was the only thing registering to Miguel. It echoed loudly in the caven the two were huddled in, light falling in through the open maw at the top. It was quiet otherwise… There was nothing left to say.

It was too late.

They had been in the cenote for hours and the sun had risen just thirty minutes ago. Miguel pushed his face deeper into his Great,Great grandfather’s chest, feeling the man squeeze him with the arm hung over his shoulder. The boy tried to ignore how his bare skull met Hector’s ribs. How the points of his shoulder bones had no padding other than his hoodie sleeves.

The storm of panic and fear had passed already. Now all he had was the numb feeling of realization. There was no going home. He was dead.

Hector leaned into him a bit, concerned about how quiet he was being. He squeezed Miguel’s shoulders once more, whispering softly “ _Todo estará bien. Estoy aquí”_

Miguel heaved in a barely contained sob.

“Let it out Nino.” Hector sighed and ran a hand through Miguel’s hair. “Trust me, Holding these feelings in never dose any good.”

Miguel tried to push himself closer to Hector, clutching his vest wearily. He shook again, letting out a soft whimper. “I said I didn’t c-care…”

“Care about what?” Hector asked quietly.

“C-care if I got on our family ofrenda…” Miguel trailed off into a sniffling mess, shoulders shaking. “I told them I d-didn’t want to be p-part of the family!” He hiccuped, running a hand over his face instinctively. “The last thing I d-did with them was fight!!” Miguel clutched to Hector and sobbed loudly.

“No, no, Miguel.” Hector said, patting his shoulder. “Not the last. Never the last. You will see them again. When their time comes, you will be together once more and everything will be ancient history by then.”

“I s-shouldn’t have yelled! I sh-hould have done what Mama Imelda told me to!” Miguel cried. “Now its too late!”

“Everyone makes mistakes mijo.” Hector seemed to trail off for a moment as he spoke. “Some bigger than others… but trust me when I say your family will forgive you. That's what familia is for, right?”

Miguel wiped his face with his sleeve. “They never forgave you…” He muttered, wincing when he spoke.

Hector squeezed his grandson again. “No, but our situations are not the same.”

“We both left for music…” Miguel sniffled.

“I left my family when things were hard. Imelda, she had to get a job, take care of a baby, build a business, all on her own. Money was tight back then and I wasn’t around to help with anything. She was all alone.” He explained. “Your just a kid, a kid who tried to follow his dreams. You didn’t have any responsibilities or people who depended on you. You just made a mistake.”

The water was still dripping. They sat in silence for a few moments as Miguel tried to settle his crying. Time trickled on until Hector shifted a little.

“Once we figure a way out of here we should get you back to Imelda.” Hector said.

“Mama Imelda?” Miguel asked, confused.

“She can take care of you.” Hector explained. “She’s got lots of room at her place and its warm and safe and-”

“What about you Papá Hector?” Miguel asked, looking up. “What will- AHHH!”

Hector jumped a foot in the air as Miguel sat frozen on the ground, terrified. “What the heck! You trying to get my heart beating again?! Whats wrong?!”

“I- I can’t see!” The boy felt along the walls and rocky floor of the cave. “I can’t- Why can’t I see anything!?”

“What?!” Hector knelt back down before him. “You can’t see? Let me- oh.”

“Oh?!” Miguel shouted, still panicked.

“Easy! Easy. You just don’t have any eyes.” Hector stated calmly.

“WHAT?!” The boy screamed, trying to stand up, panting a little.

“Whoa! Sit down Ninos!” Hector ordered, pushing the boy back down by his shoulders. “Skeletons don’t have eyes. We have to make them here to see with. When you first arrive you get a pair from the reception area.” He hummed a little. “Course you didn’t get in that way, did you.”

“What? Then how did the first people here see things?!” Miguel frowned.

“I don’t know, do I look like a history buff to you?” Hector said. “As long as things work I don’t question the system.”

“T-then how am I supposed to see?” Miguel asked, putting a hand to his eyes. He jerked it away when the tips of his fingers traced the insides of his skull.

“We’ll get you a pair. People lose them or they pass over to the next realm and leave their eyes behind.”

“Ew.”

“It's not ew, its recycling.” Hector said. “Till then I’ll have to be your eyes.”

“Can’t I have one of yours?” Miguel asked.

“You could try, but mine would be too big. We need to get you some kid sized ones.” Hector said. “Imelda can help you with that to. She has a little sway around here. Not much, but enough.”

Miguel took hold of Hector’s sleeve, trying to look where he believed his grandfather’s face was. “Dose that hurt? Getting new eyes put in?”

“Por supuesto no.” Hector smiled sadly. “Nothing hurts here, not physically anymore.”

BLAM

Miguel jumped, hugging Hector desperately at the noise. His grandfather held him back just as tightly, though he seemed less surprised. There was silence as Hector pushed them both up into a standing position.

“What do you want!?” He shouted, his angry voice echoing in the cave.

“Who are you-” Miguel started, only for a new voice to interrupt him.

“Mr De La Cruz would like to see you before you leave his property.” A harsh voice said.

“What makes you think we want to see him!?” Hector asked angrily.

“Unless you expect to fly out of this hole, there's only one other way out ese.” The voice responded. “You got thirty seconds.”

Hector grumbled under his breath before sighing. “Alright! Just hold on.” He nudged Miguel carefully, leading him down the slippery rocks. “We need a minute to get over there! Chamaco can’t see.”

The guard made no noise as Hector slowly lead the boy over the uneven rock, holding his shoulders in his steady grasp. “Little to the left here.” He whispered and edged him around an obstacle Miguel had no way of seeing. “Ok… Now-” Hector took his grandson’s hands in his own, guiding them to what felt like a rope, but when he felt around the boy realised it was a rope ladder. “Climb up this. Take your time and move slowly. I’ll be right behind you.”

The ladder swayed a little as Miguel climbed on, and it only moved more when he got high enough for Hector to start climbing as well. Everything was darkness and Miguel was suspended off the ground with no way of knowing how high he was. As he shuffled he heard Hector grunt behind him and it gave him a small amount of comfort.

“Hurry up!” The guard shouted out of the darkness. Miguel jumped, not expecting the noise, and his foot missed the ladder step. He clung the to ladder with his arms as it wriggled under his movements, shaking a little himself at the near misstep.

“HEY! Were going as fast as we can, tonto!” Hector yelled back, but placed a hand to Miguel’s back to keep him steady. “Ok ‘megio, keep it steady.”

Slowly they got closer to the end. The wet, earth smell of the cenote began to become fresh, cool air. As Miguel’s hands scrambled up over the rim of the hole, a large hand snatched him up by his hood and hefted him over the edge before roughly depositing him to the ground a few feet from the hole. “Easy!” Hector ordered, but from his grunt Miguel could tell he was getting the same treatment.

“Lets go, Mr De La Cruz has been kept waiting for long enough.” The guard ordered and Miguel stumbled to his feet.

Hector was back again, taking Miguel by the hand to guide him up the walkway. “He can wait a bit longer after the things he’s done.” The older Riviera muttered as he tried to make sure his grandson wouldn’t trip anywhere.

It took some time for Hector to navigate Miguel around the path to Ernesto, pausing him for stairs and stopping him before the boy plowed face first into doors. The outside air turned warm and wood like, the smell of a home. Yet when the guards had them pause, Miguel knew it wouldn’t be much longer until they met Ernesto again. He turned to his grandfather quietly. “What do we do when we see him?”

“We just get in, let him run his mouth and get out, no need to push this farther than need be.” Hector said calmly. “Our only goal is to get you to Imelda. We can deal with the rest later.”

“Ok, Mr De La Cruz will see you.” The guard said, the door squeaking as it opened to Ernesto’s inner sanctum-

“HIJO DE PUTA!” Miguel yelped when his grandfather dashed past him, clearly seething in rage. The boy stood, frozen in bewilderment as a handful of guards raced after his grandfather, one staying to hold onto Miguel’s shoulders tightly. He couldn’t make out what was happening in the scuffle before him, but from the sounds of it his Papá Hector was buried under a pile of bodyguards. Things were starting to calm down as Miguel was lead into the room by his handler, forcing him to stand in a certain location.

“Aye yai yai…” Hector groan miserably somewhere beside him.

“What happend to get in, get out?!” Miguel hissed under his breath to the darkness beside him.

“I saw his face and was overcome with rage.” Hector mumbled. Miguel thought this over before shrugging. To be fair if he could see, he’d likely have done the same.

“Ah, so good to see you both again.” Miguel scowled. The voice that had once brought him inspiration was now nothing short of rage inducing. Ernesto De La Cruz. The man that murdered his great, great grandfather…

And murdered Miguel himself.

“Its not mutual.” Miguel spat, glower in the direction he heard the smug voice emanating from.

“Ah, such a way to address your great, great grandfather, eh.” Ernesto said coyly.

“You aren’t my grandfather, and you are definitely not great!” Miguel retorted.

“Oh no?” Miguel paused when he realized that Ernesto didn’t sound like he cared about the news. He fumbled a little when the man laughed. “Than who is  your grandpappy?”

“Hector… Hector is my grandfather.” The boy muttered, starting to lose his angry resolve to confusion.

“Ah, I thought as much.” The man said dully. “I wasn’t so sure until I saw that old picture again.”

“You knew?!” Hector shouted.

“Only near the end of our little meeting Hector.” Ernesto said with a chuckle. “I had forgotten what you looked like in life. So skinny… He got your eyes and single dimple.”  The man snorted. “And your annoying habits of getting in my way.”

“You let him die Ernesto!”

The words echoed around the room eerily, Miguel shivered at every repeat of the words.

“You killed him! Just like you killed me!” Hector continued darkly. “What kind of monster are you?!”

“Now now Hector, no need to be so upset. After all, I didn’t let either of you die alone, now did I?” Ernesto said. His guards make no sound to his confession, they were likely well paid. “I could have locked him in my broom closet for the remaining  few hours of his life, alone, but I figured I’d let him spend it with you.”

“He’s just a kid!” Hector snapped.

“A kid who was about to go back to the land of the living and tell everyone about what I did.” Ernesto growled, his chair squealed as he stood. “I couldn’t have that you know.”

“Who’d have believed him?! He had no evidence!” Hector was starting to sound teary, though his anger still burned in his tone.

“There are some who would have believed him, or even just started to doubt me. Any small chance that could have lowered my status would have-”

“Small chance!” Hector was pacing. “Ernesto. He’s dead! He’s here until his memory starts to fade! He had a life! He had a chance to become anything he wanted!” Hector huffed a little. “How could you just- in his prime! He had so much time left!”

“Amigo, I can’t believe your so surprised.” Ernesto snorted. “After all, it's not the **first** time I’ve done this, is it?”

Silence.

Miguel swallowed tightly. He was getting a little emotional again. Hector’s words just made him realize how much he had lost. There would be no future. No going to school, no getting his dream job, no falling in love… No growing up.

“Well, as nice as it has been see you after SO long Hector, I must get back to my work. Next Dia de los Muertos is only three hundred and sixty four days away, and I must begin my planning for the next concert.” Ernesto laughed a little. “If you were wondering, this concert was a smash hit, so it will be hard to follow, but I’ll find a way.” Ernesto started to leave the room. “I always do.”

“You won’t get away with this. I report you to the authorities!” Hector said a low, dangerous tone.

“Well I believe a very poor and forgotten musician once said- ‘ _Who’d have believed him? He had no evidence’._ Eh muchacho?”

Miguel didn’t hear much else other than Ernesto’s laughing as he was roughly picked up and carried to the front door. He could hear Hector cursing and swearing as he was taken away as well. The front doors banged as they flew open and Miguel could only yell as the guards threw him out. The impact with the pavement didn’t hurt really, but it was hard and the grinding of his bare bones was unsettling.

“Mr De La Cruz has requested you not return to his premise. If you do we will prosecute you to the fullest extent of the law.” The guard shouted after them. “Adios.”

Bones rattled as Hector moved around beside Miguel. “Damn this-! Gah! Is there no justice anymore!?” He groan and popped something. “...Lets go Miguel, Its a long walk to Imelda’s.”

He tried to get up, grunting in effort, but the boy found he couldn’t really stand for some reason. He was only rasing on one arm… He felt around before squawking. “HECTOR! M-My arm! MY ARM IS GONE!” He tried to sit up but gasped. “Where are legs!? Where is my- SPINE! Oh god! Oh GOD!-”

“Whoa! Whoa Whoa Whoa! Calm down, its ok! Your ok.” Hector was back at his side, running his hand through Miguel’s hair. “Everything’s ok.”

“M-My arm…” Miguel sobbed slightly, he was getting emotional again, this day was just way too much.

“I know, I know, but remember earlier today? You took my arm right off? I pulled off my own head? Skeletons fall apart all the time, but its ok because we can pull ourselves back together again!” Hector explained. “All your parts are right here, mijo. Just focus for me. Remember your arm. What it felt like. What it looks like, where its supposed to be on your body.”

Miguel paused, taking a breath and trying to focus, like his grandfather told him to. His right arm… Well it felt like… an arm. Those are useful… More useful on his body though. “I-its not working…” Miguel muttered worriedly.

“Ok, try and think about what you did with them, you know eat, dress, hold stuff.” Hector offered. “Try again, ok?”

Ok, ok… Holding things. He held… oranges while he peeled them. He polished shoes. He- he played the guitar. He could remember strumming with his right hand. His left holding for notes-”

“Thats it, keep going like that!” Hector encouraged, clearly seeing something Miguel didn’t. “Just like that- oh wait!” Hands found his hoodie zipper, opening it so his right shoulder stump could be clear of obstruction. “Ok, keep thinking.”

Playing the guitar. He remembered learning his first few notes, making the guitar in the attic by finding broken ones in the trash, combining them together with tape and secretly buying strings. All those days watching the hand placement on tapes and street musicians, shadowing along with them-

Click.

Miguel blinked, flexing his right arm and finding it in place. He lifted his torso up off the ground a little with them both. “It worked!”

“Course it did.” Hector said. “Now just do the same for your spine and legs ok?”

“N’alright.” Miguel tried to repeat what he did with his arm. His spine was way harder and Hector had to coach him through it, as well as bring those parts closer to his body, but after thinking about leaning and stretching and cracking his back they wiggled on. His legs were damn easy. Walking got one one, running the other.

“There you go.” Hector said happily as he aided Miguel to his feet. “All in one piece.”

“Gracias Papá Hector.”

“Ah it was nothing!” Hector chuckled. “You did most of it yourself!” He looped his arm around Miguel’s shoulders. “Now we should get walking. Imelda awaits.” They started off down the street, Miguel being led blindly through darkness-

And wondering why his leg felt so funny…

“Oh!” Hector swooped down, pulling on something before putting back properly. “Foot was backward.”

Even after all the turmoil today, Miguel couldn’t help but laugh.

* * *

 

The streets were quiet. Hector was still leading Miguel along the cobblestone roads, careful to avoid uneven stones the boy wouldn’t see. They had been walking for almost two hours. “Do you even know where Mama Imleda lives?” Miguel asked.

“Of course!” Hector said stiffly, walking a little faster. “Well I mean, I know the district.”

“What do you mean by that?” Miguel frowned, growing suspicious.

“Well.. She didn’t want me around you know.” Hector muttered. “So I knew what area she lives in. Just not what house. I only know the area because she promised to turn my thigh bones into a pair of huarache if I showed my face there…” The man swallowed tightly. “I have no idea how she would do such a thing, but Imelda always finds a way.”

“Then how do we find her house?!” Miguel asked.

“She runs a business still. Her name should be on a sign.” Hector explained.

“Do skeleton’s wear shoes?” Miguel said.

“Yes, but she don’t do that no more.” Hector sighed. “You see Miguel, your Mama Imelda is like a river, sometimes she is calm and tender, other times raging, something no man can tame. However she is flexible to change and when one pathway closes, she goes another, never looking back.”

“Whats that got to do with not making shoes?” Miguel blinked.

“Well she figured out pretty quickly that while people do buy shoes around here, they don’t wear out as quickly as they do in life. The same goes for all clothes. However there is one thing we need, constantly, that break all the time, get lost, ect.”

“Whats that?”

“Globos oculares” Hector said. “You know, what you need in your head right now? So she learned to make glass eyes and has been getting better everyday since she started.” He leaned down. “Some people want a fancier pair then what the reception gives you, but Imelda makes plain ones for the reception area as well.”

“For not being around her too much you sure do know a lot about her.” Miguel stated.

“Yes, well, word gets around you know.” Hector said glumly.

Miguel winced when he realized he had unfortunately stepped on a nerve. “So ah… how much longer till we get there?” He asked, hoping to change subjects.

“We have a long way to walk Nino. You saw how big this place was when you came in, Imelda likes to live in the quieter areas, outside downtown. It's very loud and busy around the gates. “ Hector said. “If you want a time frame I’d say… three, maybe four hours?”

“That long?!” Miguel gasped. “I dunno if I can walk that long! I’m usually waking up about now, not still wondering around since last night.”

“Yeah, I know…” Hector hummed a bit, pausing to think. “We could go to my place and see if I have any money floating around. Buy a ride on someone’s Alebrije. A few are big enough that some people started doing a sort of taxi service. Get on one of those and we’ll be there in no time!”

Miguel frowned again “Are you sure you don’t need the money? We can keep walking…”

“Ah, nah!” Hector said easily. “I do odd jobs around town. I got some money to spare. We don’t eat as much on this side. We mostly just pay for houses and that junk.” He pulled Miguel down a narrow path. “Come on, this way.”

With Hector just leading him forward by the hand, Miguel tried to listen around for foot traffic, but it seem the streets were still deserted. “Where is everybody?”

“Its the day after a festival! Nobody is getting up at this time of the morning, at least not happily.” Hector made a turn and Miguel’s shoulder clipped the corner of a building. “Not even the trollies are running today.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry!” Hector stated, slowing down. “Ok, so we just go- AIE!” He halted, Miguel bumping into him at the motion. “I forgot how dangerous the stairs are to get down there.”

“Wait, how dangerous are they?” Miguel asked, wishing he could see for himself.

“Well other than being old and rickety and a sudden free fall to one side- ahhh, you know what never mind, don’t think about it.” Hector laughed nervously. Miguel found himself ‘oddly’ not esured by that. “Just one step at a time, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Miguel grimace. Hector went first, holding Miguel’s hand as they went down. As soon as his foot touched the first step, it creaked loudly, shifting down under his weight. He swallowed tightly. “Hector-”

“They do that, this place is older than dirt!” The man scoffed, though he seemed uneasy as well. “Its perfectly safe.”

Miguel took the next step with the same ominous noise. Infact every step creak and groaned like his weight would be the one thing to break them apart. He shivered when a heavy gust of wind blew up from the free fall beside him. “I don’t like this.” He mumbled.

“I’m kinda agreeing with you amigo.” Hector said unnerved. “But we’re halfway now.”

Miguel was glad to hear that at least. They started to go a bit faster now that the finish line was in sight, but the boy blinked when an odd sensation was tingling around his lower stomach area. He put his hand there, disturbed when his hoodie sunk into his shallow abdomen. There was nothing there, so what was this feeling-

“AH!” Miguel yelped when his foot slipped between the steps, causing him to fall. Hector’s arm’s caught him before the boy could think to do anything. He panted as his grandfather pulled him back up.

“You ok? Didn’t lose any parts?” Hector asked, checking his leg over.

Miguel shook as he tried to settle his slamming heart. Yet the feeling in his stomach had spread to his behind his ears. It felt like there was a feather running a Y shaped line between the three points. “My body feels funny.” He admitted, clutching his hoodie in his hand.

“Funny? Funny how?” Hector asked.

“Something… Something here.” Miguel gestured to his torso. “Like a light pressure.” His grandfather opened the jacket to feel around over Miguel’s shirt. “Is that normal?”

“Nothing about how you passed is normal, Miguel.” The older man sighed.

The feather sensation suddenly turned sharp. It felt hot, like it should be a burning pain but wasn’t. The sensation was weird and off putting. Miguel whined deep in his throat. “I don’t like this feeling! I getting worse!”

Hector grunted before picking Miguel up and continuing down the steps. The boy blinked as he was jostled around in his grandfather’s arms, the darkness offering no clues to what was happening. “Does it hurt?” Hector asked.

“N-no, but it's creepy.” Miguel said. “Like it should hurt…”

Hector seemed to take this in and he hummed thoughtfully. Miguel could make out the sounds of his feet hitting solid earth again. “Hold on, we're almost at my house.” A door clacked open a few seconds later. “Let me just find the money and we’ll keep going.” He sat Miguel down on something hard. The boy groaned as he pushed his hands down on it.

“Why do you have a rock in your house?” Miguel whined as the sensation got hotter.

“Thats my bed.” Hector said grumpily.

As Hector kept looking, grumbling now, and Miguel lay down. He kept patting a hand around his chest and guts, the feeling still boiling. Then he felt something new, like the line that was drawn down the center of his chest was being pushed apart and his core felt cold.

It was horrifying. An unnatural chill where one should never be felt.

“Ah-AaHAH!” Miguel curled up on the bed, holding his stomach. Pressure was building in his guts. Shifting. “P-Papá! Papá Hector!”

Something smashed to the floor before Hector was at his side. “What?! Whats wrong?!”

“S-something- AH!” Miguel yelped at a terrifying motion in his stomach. “Something’s moving! Moving inside me! I don’t like it! Make it stop!” Miguel sobbed loudly and tried to curl himself into a solid ball. “Papá Hector make it stop, please! PLEASE!”

Hands hovered over him, Miguel could sense them, but they didn’t do anything. His grandfather was panicking. “Oh meird- Hold on!” Then he was gone.

“H-hector!?” Miguel cried out, not being able to see where the man had gone, the feeling of his insides shifting worsened. “Don-Don’t leave!” Miguel spasmed when there was more twisting, letting out a squeaky gasp when the cold in his chest expanded and the hot, sharp pressure returned. “Papá!”

“I’m here!” His voice sounded far away, in another room. “I’m still here, just hang on!”

“Who is that?” A new voices asked, also sounding far off.

“We don’t have time!” Hector said to the stranger. “Just hurry!” Feet trampled into the room and Hector was back. “Ok, its ok! I sent my buddy Carlos off to find Imelda. He’s got a giant bat  Alebrije. He’ll find her.”

“H-how does that help?!” Miguel whimpered. “My insides are shifting around!”

“Miguel you don’t have organs anymore-”

“Tell that to my guts!” Miguel snapped. “They’re dancing around likes its Festival de México in there-AH!” Miguel shook. “It feels cold!”

“Miguel, I need you to explain what you are feeling with a little more detail. What was it like when it started?” His grandfather asked, running a hand through his hair.

“L-like a sharp, burning Y shape… h-here!” Miguel uncurled a bit to show the points gliding down from behind his ears, meeting over his collar bone, then going down to just above the middle of his hips. “Then it was pushed open and- Ohhhhhh…” Miguel rolled face down on the bed. “I’m gonna be sick!”

Hector was silent. The man sighed sadly before crawling up onto the bed and pulling Miguel into his arms. “Amigo. I think I know whats happening.”

Miguel sniffled and wiped his eyes with one hand, still curling around his stomach, trying to starve off the cold feeling that was building by the second. “W-what”

“Well…” Hector paused and tried to bring the words together. “When… when people die Miguel, their body is left behind.” He leaned back on the bed quietly. “When your body faded away it likely that it went back to the land of the living, just without you.”

“What does that mean?!” Miguel whimpered.

“Nino, people’s souls have a connection with their body. Its made for them. Its their home. So even after you die, you can kinda feel it, especially right after you pass away.” Hector explained softly. “Like I said, it never hurts here. You just get a kinda ghostly feel from it.”

“Then whats this?!” Miguel asked fearfully.

“Well, I think somebody found your body Chamaco.” Hector said. “And since your body likely doesn't have any obvious sign of what killed you, it's gonna be labeled suspicious. I mean your soul literally left your body.” He swallowed tightly. “If I had to guess what their doing…”

Miguel looked up at the pause. “What? What do you think?” He asked, clutching his abdomen.

“I’d say they're doing an autopsy mijo.”

Miguel stilled.

Autopsy. They were doing an autopsy. Which meant they had cut him open and-

“MMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmm-!” Miguel clutched his head in his hands. “Oh my god…”

“Ok, try and relax.” Hector pried one Miguel’s hand’s down, squeezing it in his own. “It won’t last long. All we can do is ride it out.”

“I hate feeling this Papá Hector!” Miguel cired, shaking as the cold continued to spread.

“I know you do, but we can’t stop it.” Hector sighed. “Don’t worry the connection will fade. Slowly over time.”

“Did this happen to you?” Miguel asked flinchingly. Hoping the man could relate.

“Ah no. I didn’t get an autopsy. Though after what I found out I wish I had.” Hector said darkly. Yet Miguel felt him shake the feelings away. “I did feel my body decaying-”

“WHAT?!”

“Easy!” Hector ordered carefully. “It doesn't hurt and it's not gross. It feels almost like butterflies landing on you when none are around. It could be pleasant if you didn’t know what it was.”

“I don’t like this.” Miguel said softly, pressing his head back into Hector’s side.

“Nobody said dying was easy niño.”

Miguel tried to stay calm, but now that he knew the pressure in his abdomen was actually a hand pulling out his insides for testing- ugh! Lets just say it was hard to ignore. The cold was the chill of the room, filling in the space his organ once sat in.

“Try and remember happer things Miguel. It helps.” Hector said as he tucked the boy’s head under his chin. “Think of better times.”

Better times. The only happy times he could think about right now were with his family. One that came to the forefront was six months ago. His parents had pulled him out of school and taken him out for a walk on the trails outside town. That when they told him he was going to be a big brother. There were only a few months left until the baby arrived and his parents still never told him what it was, even after six long months of waiting. They want it to be a surprise.

He was excited to met them. It had been a long time coming and Miguel had wanted a sibling so much, even after seeing how little his cousins got along together.

Oh.

Miguel stared out into the darkness. Now he’d never meet them.  

Oh god! He hadn’t even thought! If his body was back in the other world then- then-!

Then his family would eventually find out he was dead.

Images of his house darkened with grief came to mind.

Something outside Miguel’s cocoon of misery slammed loudly.  Hector jumped when it did and the man nervously set Miguel down on the bed again.

“YOU.” The voice heavy and furious.

“Imelda-”

“WHAT. HAVE. YOU. DONE?!” The woman shouted. Something banged to the floor noisily.

“Imelda please-”

“Look at what's happened!” Feet stomped closer. “Look at what your- your infulace has DONE!”

“I didn’t-”

“NO! You may not have cursed him. You may not have ment this, but you played your part!” Imelda slammed something again, closer to the bed. “You took him running around the city like a toddler in a candy store! **OH** I bet you were so happy to finally have a member of the family so similar to you!”

“I didn’t even know he was related to me!” Hector argued. “He didn’t know who I was-”

“So you tried to turn him into the proper authorities?” Imelda asked scathingly. “To people who could scan him and connect him with his proper family members, so he could be sent home?!”

Silence.

“I thought so.” Imelda snarled. “Face it Hector, everything you do isn’t for anyone else but yourself! You ran out on me and Coco for music! Now you’ve killed your own great grandson! For what?! To relive your love of music?! To have somebody on your side?!”

“HEY! I didn’t just wander a round this city like it was big party!” Hector responded. “I was trying to help him because he promised to take my picture over-”

“Why do you want that?!” Imelda asked.

“I just- I wanted to see Coco!” Hector shouted. “One last time before I go!”

“...” Imelda seemed shocked by those words, but steeled herself to remark. “What makes you think she misses you?”

Miguel shook at that. Mama Coco had never stopped thinking about her Papá. Not a day passed when she hadn’t thought of him in almost ninety years.  How he wished he could tell her what really happened to him. To be able to say anything to his family on the other side. To hug his mama… To hold his baby brother or sister…

The ghostly hand in his torso squeezed something. Then the dam broke. Miguel just started to wail, curling up tighter as the sensations worsened. His heart felt like it was being ripped from his chest, because that was actually happening or it was the emotional turmoil he wasn’t sure.

“Imelda. Lets not fight. Please. Not now.” Hector said over the cries.

Imelda took a deep breath before sighing sadly. “Your right. Your right…” There was a creak as Imelda sat down the bed and started to comb her fingers through Miguel’s hair. He tried to relax under the touches, but things were still squirming around inside him.

“I think they’re doing an Autopsy on the other side.” Hector whispered to his ex-wife.

“Ay, Dios Mío.” Imelda muttered. Arms scooped Miguel up again, but they were small and thinner than Hectors. His great grandmother started to rock him back and forth in her hold. “Can you get me a blanket Hector?” Imelda asked, as she shifted Miguel higher in her grasp.

“S-sure.” Hector said quickly, footsteps walked out of the door.

Imelda sighed again, bouncing Miguel as he started to twisted in discomfort. “Everything will be ok mijo.”  

“I-I’m sorry Mama Imelda…” He trembled as his great grandmother leaned closer to hear his soft voice. “I’m sorry I didn’t-”

“Shh. No apologizing.” Imelda whispered. “Not now, not ever.”

Miguel winced when the pressure went higher into his thoracic cavity.  He half wished the sensation did hurt, if for no other reason than to dull the cold, tight, drifting in his chest. Or the aching in his heart. “My mama and Papá… I died and now they’re gonna blame themselves…”

“Don’t think about that Miguel. Rightnow you need to focus on yourself.” Imelda said. “We are here for you, and your mama and Papá have family with them as well. I was worried about my Coco when she lost your great aunt Tia, she died shortly after I did, but the family pulled together on both sides.”

He snuffled and ran his arm over his face roughly. Mama coco… “She never stopped missing Hector.” Miguel said quietly. “Mama Coco always thought about him.”

“I know.” Imelda said sadly. “I wish she didn’t though. I wish I didn’t.”

“H-he wanted to come home to you.” Miguel started, trying to explain what he had learned. “He wanted to but -AHHH!”

The feeling spread to his neck.

Imelda said nothing, she just held him closer. Hector’s footsteps returned in that quiet moment. “I found one.”

“You call that a blanket?” Imelda asked, not angry but concerned.

“I don’t have many Imelda.” Hector explained and Miguel felt a thin but soft sheet be laid over him.It smelt a little musty but one of them was tucking it in around him.

“I don’t understand Hector, you used to make good money even just playing on the street corners.” Imelda frowned.

“I don’t play anymore.”

“Oh.” A hand stroked through Miguel’s hair again.

“I was hoping you could take him home with you.” Hector explained quietly. “ Thats where we were going before - before that started.”

“Oh really?” Imelda’s tone turned suspicious.

“Hey, I want to help him ok?” Hector said sadly. “I really do, but I can’t keep a kid in a place like this!”

“You live here?” Imelda shifted as she looked around the room. Miguel couldn’t see for himself, but judging from her voice, Imelda wasn’t impressed by it. “I thought you’d have moved in with your folks.”

“I never knew my parents Imelda. You know that.”

“Yeah, cause they died.” Imelda said. “I thought you’d meet up them now.”

“They died when I was little and nobody I knew could remember them very well in the first place. Faded away long time ago.”

Imelda stilled, finger tapping over Miguel’s arm. “I’m sorry to hear that…”

“Its ok.” Hector moved to a different place in the room, floors creaking. “I thought the same thing when I first got here.” The silence that followed was tight and suffocating, or maybe it was just the pressure Miguel had in his throat. “You should get him home Imelda. He’s pretty tired.”

Imelda shifted once more, like she was going to stand. Instead she crossed her legs and laid Miguel in a better position on her lap. “You really are unbelievable.”

“What?” Hector asked wearily.

“Well I can’t leave you in a place like this.” She snorted. “What kind of heartless person do you take me for?”

“What?! NO! NEVER!!” Hector said quickly. “Your the nicest person I know!”

Imelda twitched. “Well it will be my undoing, apparently. Pack up your things, I can put you up.”

“...really?” Hector whispered.

“Yes- but in the guest house! Its across the courtyard. You can stay there. At least until you can get something better than this mess.” A hand freed itself from holding Miguel to gestured around vaguely. “Just hurry up, I wanna get out of here.”

“But- I just- You really want me to-”

“Hector.” Imelda sounded exasperated.

“Going! Packing now!” Hector scurried back out of the room.

“Gracias Mama Imelda…” Miguel’s voice was straining around the squeezing in his throat. She patted his leg gently in response.

Hector didn’t have many things to pack seemingly, because he was back less than five minutes later. “Ok, ok! I’m ready.”

“You sure that's everything?” Imelda asked. “You can take a _little_ longer if you want, you know.”

“No, no! I don’t own much, this is everything I want.” Hector said. He took a deep breath before saying. “Trust me.”

Imelda stood up, hefting Miguel in her hold. “Pepita is outside. Bring that and we can get going.” They were walking again, stepping back outside and Miguel  shivered at the way his neck clinched.

“Everything ok Hector?” A voice called as they reached the curb.

“Fine Carlos! Here, I’m moving for a while. Could you take the house?” Hector asked.

“Whoa! Of course!” Carlos said excitedly.

“Hector, come on!” Imelda called as Miguel heard a large growling noise. He had seen his great great grandmother’s Alebrije before, he recalled it was pretty scary looking up close. When it sniffed him it blew a large gust of hot air in his face with every exhale. Miguel hoped it wasn’t one to hold a grudge like his Mama Imelda.

It growled deeper after a moment, causing the boy to freeze. “Pepita! Stop that please. Hector is -... is going to be stay with us.”

Pepita let a confused cat noise.

“Give her your suitcase Hector, your riding on the back.” Imelda ordered. “Pepita you lay down and take his suitcase!”

The cat creature grumbled but did as instructed, taking the suitcase in its mouth. There a small juggling motion as the two handed Miguel between themselves as they boarded, until the boy was squeezed between them on the creature’s back. Miguel wasn’t sure if it was to keep him from falling or to buffer between the two.

“Watch where you put your hands hombre.” Imelda snapped, Hector jumping as she did so.

“Yes’am.” He said, putting an arm around Miguel and clutching to fur with the other. He was glad for the support. He was feeling a little unsteady na dnasious with the sensations still going on…

Those feelings only got worse when Pepita took off. It was a harsh, jerky motion that almost had Miguel falling off. Hector had a similar issues as he slid back a bit on the creature’s back, Miguel bumping into his chest with his head.

“Oh for-” Imelda reached back one handed, snatching Hector’s wrist and placing it on her side. “Just don’t fall off!” Miguel grabbed hold of his Mama Imelda as well, hugging her around the middle.

The world was a mess of whipping winds and shifting darkness. Besides the two constant bodies anchoring him on either side and Pepita under him, Miguel had no idea where he was. Sudden dips and turns had his stomach rolling. A stomach that he may not even have at moment.

One bad bout of turbulence had Miguel squeezing his grandmother tightly. He was rattling around as Pepita’s movements got more violent. Miguel let out a groan as he felt the vibrations in the core of his bones.

“We’re landing in the courtyard now.” Imelda explained over the flurry of wing beats.

“Imelda!” Their arrival had called the rest of the family out of the house. “What happened?”

“Whats going on?”

“What’s Hector doing here?” Aunt Tia’s voice came over the crowd more clearly, unhappy to see her grandfather in their home.

“Is that- It can’t be…” Aunt Rosita was the first to spot Miguel and all the relatives quieted when they saw him as well.

“Rosita! Set up the room down the hall!” Imelda ordered swiftly, everyone jumping to action at her volume. “Tia, Get me a pair of child sized, dark mahogany brown, glass eyes! Julio, take Hector’s things to the guest cottage! Fillipe and Oscar, I need you to watch the shop and keep working on the orders! Hector with me!”  She had scooped Miguel up again, making a few quick strides into the house. “We need to alert the Department of Family Relations and The Arrival/Departure Agency.” Imelda grunted, forcing a door open. “But first we have to settle him down and wait for the discomfort to pass. Some food and sleep should help, but the autopsy shouldn’t last much longer. An hour or two.”She put Miguel up higher on her hip and started up some stairs, Hector still twittering behind her.

“An hour or two to pull everything out yeah, but stuffs gonna be put back in later, right?” Hector questioned. Imelda paused mid step and turned to look at him, Miguel could actually feel heat smoldering from her expression.

“Sorry.”

Imelda groaned. “What part of calm him down is so hard to understand?”

“I know, its just… he should know what to expect.” Hector said helplessly. “Better than him waking up with his guts churning again.”

Imelda took a deep breath before grumbling. “I suppose…”

“The room is ready Imelda.” Rosita said above them on the next floor, sounding anxious.

“Thank you, go help Oscar and Filipe.” Imelda said swiftly, passing her and going down a hallway.

“What do you need me to do?” Hector asked.

“Help me with Miguel for now.” Imelda said. “We will be talking later.”

Hector swallowed.

They entered a new room. Miguel could tell because everything felt warmer in the smaller space. Pulling his head out of Mama Imelda’s neck, he could smell shoe leather, polish, baking and some kind of perfume. It would be a dead match for home, were it not for some hot, metallic smell he could just make out under the others. He was laid down on a bed, this one much more comfortable than Hector’s old one.

“How are you feeling mijo?” Hector asked as Imelda took the old blanket of Hector’s off him and pull the covers of the bed up.

There wasn’t a squeezing or pulling motion in his abdomen anymore. His neck also wasn’t trying to strangle himself. It was just the cold, hollowness of his insides that made Miguel feel unwell. He gave a heavy sigh. “Empty.”

There was a pause as the two adults likely looked at each other. One leaned over him and judging from the size of the hand cupping his face, it was Imelda. “Don’t worry. It will pass.”

“Abuelita.” Tia’s voice entered the room, but there was no creaking floorboards to indicate that she had come inside. “I have the eyes you asked for.”

“Gracias Tia. Can you go help everyone in the workshop.” Imelda asked. “I promise I’ll talk to you about what's going on.”

“I can understand most of what's happening…” Her voice grew a bit scathing. “However some ‘THINGS’ I don’t.”

“Tia.” Imelda only hardened her voice a touch, in warning. Thankfully Miguel could hear Tia sigh in submission and walk away.

“She looks like you.” Hector commented quietly.

“Yes, she does. Both she and Elena got my spitfire personality, maybe not all the way through.” Imelda said.

“Always served you well eh?” Hector laughed.

“Yes. Well…” Imelda paused, huffing a little. “...We should put his eyes in.”

“Right, right!” Hector agreed.

“So.” Imelda was back at his bedside. “You ready to see again?”

“You sure this doesn't hurt?” Miguel asked.

“Course not, maybe a little weird.” Hector said.

“And you know how to put them in safely?” Miguel added, hesitant.

“It's not difficult.” Imelda said. “Putting in your eyes is a tradition on this side. Usually you arrive at  Reception with your familia already waiting in the back rooms. They give a sort of intro, then your taken to your family and one of them puts your eyes in for you. Like getting to see a new world with a fresh set of eyes.”

Miguel supposed he had head of stranger customs in the land of the living. Especially for welcoming a family member. “So who puts them in?”

“Whomever you want.” Imelda said, she paused before sighing. “Hector.”

“Uh-yes?”

“You put one in. I’ll do the other.” She said. The was another pause before she groaned. “Take it. You want to right?”

“I- yes I do.”

“Good.” The bed creaked as Imelda sat down. “Miguel, keep your eyes open. You’ll feel pressure and then, when its in, blink a few times.”

“O-ok…”

“Don’t be nervous.” Imelda said. Her hand came to his left eyes, and he felt it shuffle around until the eye was pushing against … something in the blackness of his empty socket. It felt cold and smooth. Miguel swallowed, willing the, uh, muscles? Magic? Soul stuff? Whatever was holding in there, to relax. Imelda shifted a finger, nudging something in Miguel’s skull, before the ball just dropped in. Miguel flinched back at the weight of it, eyes fluttering and trying to adjust.

“Cold…” He muttered.

“Yes they are, but they warm up quickly.” Imelda chuckled a little. “Take a look, how’s it working?”

He opened his left eye, wincing at the light entering the room. “It gets bright here…”

“We have a day and night, just like everyone else.” Imelda said, Miguel looking over at them with his working eye. The preption was a little off, but once he got the other eye he figured it would get fixed. Both Hector and Imelda were at his bed side, Hector holding the next glass eye, which was a little weird to see out of a socket. They were smiling softly, but it wasn’t a happy smile. More of a simper.

“Hector, your turn.” Imelda shifted on the bed, making room for her ex-husband. He twitched, looking at her nervously, but nodded and came forward.

“Ready?” He asked.

“I guess?” Miguel said, wincing a bit already. Imelda patted his hand.

He closed his left eye and tried to keep the right open now. Hector applied a little more pressure than Imelda, but even with that it wasn’t going in right. It just felt like a hard pushing on his eye rather than the eye actually entering.

“Hector, that's a little too difícil.” Imelda spoke, but it was more of a tender reminder than scolding.

“I’m just trying to get it in.” Hector responded. “I’ve never done this… you know.”

“Here.” A second hand joined Hector’s. “Lighten up.” Pressure lessened over Miguel’s eye and he felt Imelda leading Hector’s hand. “Then just nudge the lower eyelid a touch and-” Miguel flinched again as the heavy ball popped in. “Like a ring on the finger.”

Miguel blinked furiously, getting vision in both eyes and wincing at the light. The room weaviered a touch, but once it came into focus Miguel could say it was... a room. Small but in a cozy sort of way, with white walls, wooden floors, and a slanted ceiling. All that was really in here for furniture was a nice, warm, wooden bed with a side table and rug.

Miguel supposed this would be his room from now on.

“Now I know you will want to look around, but try to take a quick nap.” Imelda said, tucking him in. “You’ve been up all night and you've been through a rather rough emotional patch. You need some sleep.”

“Mama Imelda, I dunno if I can-”

“Just try.” Imelda’s tone wasn’t unkind, but there was enough of an edge that kept Miguel from arguing. He turned to look up at the ceiling, trying to close his eyes and pretend he was really back home, in his own bed. It actually made him feel worse, memories of when he was little floated to the surface, his mother tucking him in.

The emotion must have slipped out on his face, because Hector shuffled a little closer on the bed to run a hand through his hair. There a moment of silence before Imelda sighed, the two sharing another look.

Hector took a deep breath.

 _“Remember me…”_ Hector’s voice was still a little rusty, having not sung a word for so long until earlier this day. However the warmth and tenderness in his voice was comforting. _“Though I have to say goodbye, remember me… Don't let it make you cry. For even if I'm far away I hold you in my heart, I sing a secret song to you each night we are apart…”_

 _“Remember me-”_ Miguel almost opened his eyes when he heard his Mama Imelda join in the song. Hector was clearly shocked, as his voice petered out for a second, but his performer instincts kicked in and he started to sing with her again. Miguel was tempted to look, but he felt like doing so would break a sort of spell. “ _Though I have to travel far… Remember me, each time you hear a sad guitar. Know that I'm with you the only way that I can be. Until you're in my arms again, remember me…”_

They both started to hum the tune, hands still running through his hair and squeezing his own softly in their grip. Hector had told him the song was originally a lullaby and now that Miguel was hearing it sung as such, it was clearly what it was made to be. Much more peaceful. The long night was finally catching up with him and Miguel was starting to nod off.

His last thought before passing out was that Mama Imelda and Papá Hector were a pretty good duet.

* * *

 

They hummed the song for another solid five minutes. Even after all these years they knew how to sing a child to sleep and they knew the signs to look out for before they tried to tip toe out of the room. It was only after Miguel’s broken expression laxed and his breathing deepened that they were sure he was asleep. Even then they stayed, watching him a little longer, no words shared between them. It reminded Hector of when Coco was little, they would sit at her bed side, watching her peacefully dream the night away.

How he missed those days.

A hand tugged at his hat, and he looked up to Imelda, who tilted her head to the door. Slowly they edged out of the room, his ex-wife shutting the door as quietly as possible. She stood at the door silently before a frown took over her expression and she softly rested her head against the wood. Her shoulders shuttered with a deep breath.

Hector was feeling the same way. Today was not a good day.

“This is…” Imelda muttered under her breath. She took another heavy breath. “It shouldn’t have been like this.” She swallowed. “He’s much too young.”

Children were very unusual in the the land of the dead, at least these days. They were usually looked out for by all the inhabitants of the afterlife, if only because they were pitied for their early demise. Child never grew up, never experienced life. Now Miguel would be a child forever, something that was both a blessing and a curse.

Imelda ran her hand over the door. “There is nothing more we can do about that now. He’s our responsibility…” She stepped back to look at him sadly. “Hector… I want to apologize for how I reacted at first. I know you would never intend for this.”

“Imelda…”

“BUT-” She held up a hand, keeping him in place. “Don’t mistake my kindness for forgiveness. You ran off and left Coco and I alone. You left us and-” She pointed at him furiously when he tried to interject. “I DO NOT care why you never came home. Your here until you save the money to get a better place than that hole you were living in. Once you do, you out. So don’t think for a moment I’ll let you sit around the house doing whatever you please.” She started to stalk up to him, Hector stumbling back until he bumped into the walk, he winced when Imelda prodded him in the chest pointedly. “Your working here, cooking, cleaning and whatever else I can think of, while we’re in the shop. I’ll give you some spending money, but the majority of it I will save for you until you have made well enough for a place of your own, got that?!”

“Yes’am.” He said softly.

She studied him before deflating a bit. “You can go in the kitchen, the living room, where you want but anything past Miguel’s door here on the second floor-” She pointed at the boys door, which was right beside the staircase. “Is off limits to you. Comprende?” When he nodded again she stepped away from him, Hector almost melting in relife. She turned and started down the staircase. “I have to tell the others whats going on… and Hector.”

She paused mid step once more, yet she didn’t turn to face him. “Don’t-... Don’t talk to me unless you have to.”

Then Hector was alone in the darkened hallway.

  



	2. Ecos de la vida

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Awkward family reunions!' OR 'Hector meets his family!'

Miguel wasn’t sure where he was.

The room was dark. It smelled sour and slightly nauseating, like a doctors office. Everything was cold here, and when Miguel moved around it sounded like he was walking on tiles. There was a small amount of light coming in through the blinds from some windows, but it was artificial, too blue tinted and dull to the sun. He wondered why someone would have a window between two insides walls…

Miguel’s eyes caught a silver tray in one of the beams of light. It held a menagerie of tools, all steel and glinting. The table it sat upon was small and had wheels on the bottom. He put his foot out to nudge it, but started when it sunk right through. Only now did he see that his body was translucent and the slightly orange tint glowing off him.

It was like before.

Beside the tray was another table. This one tall and large, with a sink on the end. There was a sheet pull up over something on the table… It looked like a human figure. One much too short for the table.

Miguel’s eyes widened when he realised what he was looking at. He stumbled back, tripping over his own feet with a yelp!-

* * *

-only to find himself sitting up in bed when he looked again. He glanced around wildly, but he was no longer standing in a morgue beside his own dissected body.  Now he was back at Mama Imelda’s house, staring at the window where a bright, warm light was shining in.

That was a weird dream... Miguel had never been in a morgue before, so he had no idea why he could visualise one in his dream so easily. I mean he had seen them on TV sometimes during his aunt Carmen’s soap shows but he never had more than glance. His mama usually shooed him along before he got any story plots.

Miguel’s eyes dart down to his hands, wiggling the skeleton appendages for a second. They rattled as they moved, though he only heard it in the silence of the room. He hadn’t noticed when he and Héctor had been walking. Studying his new hands so closely made his feel off, or were they his old hands minus the flesh? He wasn’t sure. Either way thinking about this was depressing.

Miguel slipped out of bed and stretched, trying to ignore the creaking of bare bones, then he made his way downstairs, hoping to put off his miserable thoughts till later. He looked around curiously as he went, taking the house in. It was bigger than the one in life, that was for sure. At the bottom of the stairs there was a hallway, and with the right archway he walked into the dining room, which had a table big enough for twenty people. Brows raised, Miguel noted a noise in the next room and went to investigate. It was a kitchen, and someone was cooking something. Something that smelled great.

His great Aunt Rosita was pulling that something out of the oven when he arrived at the doorway. She turned and was about to put the tray on the counter when she spotted him, almost dropping her baking when she did. “Miguel!”

He stared at her, sinking his head into his shoulders. He hadn’t even thought about how this side of the family would react to his passing… Especially since this was all his own fault.

Aunt Rosita noticed his nervousness, as she quickly shifted from shock to cautious optimism. “Oh.. hello mijo! I didn't think you’d be up so soon. You were only asleep for two hours.” She set the tray on the kitchen island and looked down at him. “How are you feeling?”

Miguel shifted on the balls of his feet. “Ok, I mean I guess.” He responded softly.

“Mmm.” Rosita smiled sadly. “Yeah, I know that feeling. Well, hows about a little something to cheer you up, huh?” She gestured for him to come over and Miguel shyly crept to her side to look at the tray.

“Torta de tres leches?!” He said excitedly, looking over the hot cake. “Wow, what's the occasion?”

“I always make it when someone crosses over. It made me feel better in life, dose the same for me in death. So I started to do it for everyone as a little welcome/pickmeup” She laughed a little. “Tonight's not a dinner night, so you can have some now if you want.”

“Not a dinner night?” Miguel questioned.

“Well we only need to eat once every two days mijo. Everything else is just snacking, but you’ll find you’ll fill up faster on this side.” She patted his head. “Course right after you cross over you can be a bit more hungry. So you can have as much as you like.”

Miguel smiled a her but he felt a small cloud of gloom fall over him as he thought about it. His aunt seem to sense something was off, as she hummed. “Why don’t I cut a slice for you and for Héctor? He looked like he hasn’t eaten well for a bit and I think this will help put a pep back in his step. He was a little tired looking earlier. You two can have it the guest house out back.”

Miguel paused. Tired.

Oh no.

**OH NO!**

Miguel turned and ran for the side door outside, Rosita staring after him in confusion. “Miguel? I need to cut some cake for you first!”

He scrambled into the backyard, spotting a single roomed building across the tiny courtyard, he ran for it, kicking open the door-

“Nah!” Héctor fell off the bed as he woke up at the banging door. “¡No estaba tratando de cruzar el puente, me tropecé!” He shouted out, half awake.

“Héctor, you're still here!” Miguel smiled as he ran over to help him up.

“Oh, ah!” Héctor flinched as he righted his body parts back into order, testing his elbow flexion when he was back on his feet. “Of course I am, why does everyone think I’m gonna sneak out the back door any minute?!” He frowned grumpily.

“No! No, no! I mean your haven’t disappeared like Chicharrón did!” Miguel said, holding onto his grandfather’s hand at the thought. “I thought you had started to glow before…”

Héctor’s eyes widened at the realization. “I haven’t!” He looked at his free hand. “I suppose I have been feeling better since then.” He smiled a little. “Coco hasn’t forgotten yet. Maybe it was just a lapse.”

“So you won’t just go in the middle of the night then, right?” Miguel asked worriedly.

“Well …” Héctor rubbed the back of his neck, looking conflicted. “I’m not sure. I could, just because it's stopped for now doesn't mean it's over. Coco will die eventually-” Héctor made a pained face at that. “And I won’t be around after she dose. Just because she still holds me in her heart, doesn't mean my memory won’t continue to slip.”

“...” Miguel stared at him, clutching his hand tighter.

“Hey, don’t worry! We still have time together! Who knows, Coco may have many more years! I hear some ladies lived until one hundred and six. Till then, I can teach you some more about guitar and music!” Héctor smiled softly.

“I… Ok.”  Miguel said softly, looking thoughtful.

Héctor studied the boy before sighing. “Miguel, listen. We all have to go at some point, even on this side. It's no different from life. Best not to focus on it.” He ruffled Miguel’s hair. “Instead let's do the most with the time we have left. Now that I’m back around my family, I intend to.” Héctor sat back down on the bed. “I gonna start singing on the corners again to help Imelda and everyone out. You can join me if you want.”

“I guess we could do that.” Miguel said, sitting down with Héctor.

“That's the spirit.”

Miguel snorted. “Was that an on purpose pun?”

Héctor blinked before laughing. “Nope, happy accident.”

“Miguel!” They both looked up as Aunt Rosita walked to the doorway. “You forgot the cake!” She held up two plates in her hands.

“Cake?” Héctor asked, growing confused.

“Yeah, Tia Rosita made it!” Miguel said, looking between them with a small smile. “Torta de tres leches.”

“Oh! I have not had that in a while!” Héctor stood excitedly, rubbing his hands together and taking a plate from her. “Thank you!”

“Oh its nothing! I’m just happy to make everyone happy!” She said, giving Miguel his piece.

Héctor’s plate was half empty in less than a blink of an eye. He took a moment to look at Rosita curiously. “I ah, I don’t mean to be rude señora…” He gave her an uneasy smile as she looked to him. “But um, how am I related to you?”

“She’s papá Julio’s sister.” Miguel spoke up through a mouth full of cake. “He’s your yerno.”

“Son in-law?” Héctor repeated, eyes wide.

“Yeah.” Miguel swallowed the large clump of cake and looked at him, a little bewildered. “Where do you think tia… Tia, and mi abuela came from?”

“Well I guess I never really thought about that, but Coco had to have kids with somebody…” Héctor muttered, once again realizing how old his little girl really was.

“You’ll love him!” Rosita said, smiling. “Back when they were dating he practically let Coco lead him by the hand. Julio never was the best at making decisions for himself, unless they were really important to him.” She laughed. “Like asking her to marry him! I still can’t believe he worked up the courage by himself. He used to be afraid of my grandfather’s chiwawa when we was kids.”

“Hey, those things are dangerous when they wanna be.” Héctor said sternly, making both Rosita and Miguel laugh. “What? I’m telling the truth! They put the soul of dragons in those dogs!”

Rosita shook her head ruefully. “Oh yes, I’m sure the two of you will get along just fine! The rest of the family should be out of the workshop in a few minutes, you can meet everyone then, till that time why don’t I show the two of you around?” She smiled. “The compound is a little big, I got lost a few times after we moved in.”

“Well, sure. I’m kinda curious to see everything.” Héctor agreed. Miguel nodded as he shoveled down the last of his cake.

* * *

Turns out the compound was pretty big. Besides Héctor’s little guest house and the workshop there were three other buildings. Imelda’s large main house and two smaller ones, similar to Héctor’s cottage, but built with and upper level, each floor a private bedroom. Julio and Rosita had one, each on a different floor. The second was Oscar and Fillipe’s. In the main house was the a foreseen kitchen and dining room. Yet there was also a sitting room, family room, and a batheing room. Rosita explained that beside’s Imelda’s the rest of the bedrooms upstairs were singles. Tia was living in the main house as well.

“Not to mention we are very lucky! Cause just over here in the back room-” Rosita took them through a large door, both of the pausing at the heat coming out of it. The space was a sun room, with what looked like a medium size pool in the middle. Had he still had a nose, Miguel would have wrinkled it at the smell of sulfur. Rosita guested to the pool for effect. “We have a hot spring!”

“A hot spring!” Héctor said, scooping his hand into the water and smiling as it slipped through his bones. “Oh yeah! Thats nice.”

“Yes, that's what sold this place to Imelda!” Rosita agreed. “Nice after a long day of working!”

“Smells like rotten eggs.” Miguel commented.

“You get used to that relatively quickly.” Rosita explained.

“This smell brings back memories!” Héctor sighed and looked around. “Back when Imelda and I were together we’d go the the hot springs every chance we could. Did wonders for my aching joints, especially the back and fingers, those get pretty banged up playing music.”

“How long did you date for?” Rosita asked as she lead them back out of the room.

“A year or two. Her papá kept making her pushing plans back, he wasn’t too sure about me.” Héctor said. “Course when we found out Coco was coming he changed his tune.”

“I guess those hot springs were a little too hot eh?” Rosita snorted, rising a brow. Héctor shook his head ruefully with a chuckle. Miguel just looked between them, confused.

“Do I smell cake?!” A voice called from the front room at that moment, keeping Miguel from asking any questions. Julio came into the room, rubbing his hands clean in his work apron.

“That you do.” Rosita smiled. “I was just showing Héctor and Miguel the house, go grab some if you want.”

“I-” Julio looked up, pausing when he spotted Héctor. He frowned nervously. “Uhhhh…”

“Oh Julio, come on.” Roista said, rolling her eyes.

“What?” Miguel questioned the reactions, he didn’t understand Julio’s hesitation.

“Well, I just-” Julio’s eyes flitted back and forth from Héctor to Rosita. “Your sure Imelda won’t get mad if I talk to him?” He sunk down into his shirt at the thought.

“She’s the one who’s letting him live here, Gordito.” Rosita chuckled.

Julio immediately sunk deeper into his shirt. “I wish you would stop calling me that already…”

“I’ve called him that since he was four.” Rosita explained with a laugh. “He wasn’t very fat for most of his life, but when he was four, oh cielos! Did that stick well!”

“Esa es **mi** hermana mayor.” Julio muttered, pulling his head back out from hiding.

“I know, I know! I’m embarrassing you.” Rosita sighed. “I need to get back to the kitchen and make sure those gemelos don’t polish the rest of the cake off. You stay here with Héctor and Miguel. Figure out if you can talk to them.”

Julio looked startled when Rosita left the room, clearing not knowing what to do. He looked back to Héctor uncertainty. Héctor tried to give the man a reassuring smile. “If she is mad, I’ll tell her I started talking to you, instead of the other way around.” He paused. “Which wouldn’t be a lie really, considering…”

Julio just stared at him, grimacing a little.

“I don’t think Imelda would be mad anyway to be honest.” Héctor said

“I uhh, I dunno.” Julio finally spoke, eyes looking to the floor. “She wasn’t a fan of mine for a long time.”

“Oh no?”

“She ah… had trust issue…” Julio started, looking comfortable. “With men…”

“Oh.” Héctor rubbed the back of his neck.

“Not that I blame you or anything!” Julio quickly added, looking concerned. “I don’t know anything about the situation, how can I judge, she never talked about it much- not to say you never came up- I mean Imelda almost never but Coco would sometimes-”

“Coco talked about me?” Héctor asked, stopping his son in law’s panicked ranting.

Julio blinked.” Uh yeah…”

“Really?” Héctor added, clearly touched his child would even mention him at all. Julio studied him before humming, eyes clouding as he thought back with a simper.

“Yes, she did. She mentioned you when we first started to date.” Julio leaned back on a wall as he smiled fondly. “She liked to sneak off from her house after work and dance in the plaza. That's how we met, we loved dancing. She said she was so good with music because it ran in her blood. Said you were a musician.”

“She liked to dance?” Héctor smiled, trying to imagine such a thing.

“She was amazing. She spun and moved like she was an angel hiding a pair of wings on her back, the way she floated over the dance floor.” Julio smiled. “She could have been competitive I bet, but…” Julio frowned now, though it was thoughtful, rather than angry or saddened. “Imelda found us one night, dancing away.”

Both Miguel and Héctor winced at the thought.

“Oh yeah. I got acquainted with her craftsmanship shoes quiet well that night.” Julio twitched at the memory. “Thankfully Coco managed to talk her down after a minute or two. After that, in order to keep dating and seeing one another, we had to promise to never dance again.” He shrugged and sighed. “It wasn’t a hard choice, but I did miss it. Just a little.”

“I didn’t know that.” Miguel said, thinking about his mama Coco. The old woman stuck in her chair didn’t look like a dancer anymore.

“She never even talked about dancing after that.” Julio explained. “Heck, Imelda stopped making dancing shoes to. I guess to keep the temptation away.”

“So you can talk to him?” Rosita asked with a smirk as she returned, a plate of cake in hand. Julio glowered at her lightly as he took the offering.

“Your lucky your cake is so good.” He said simply, shoving a piece into his mouth and moaning in delight. “So, so lucky…”

“Well you're lucky I managed to keep a piece for you before Filipe and Oscar got to it. They’re in the sitting room getting ready to watch tv! Let go join them, huh?” Rosita nudged her brother to the door and he obliged, wandering down the wall, stuffing his face. She then motioned for Héctor and Miguel to follow after her.

As they went out into the hall, Miguel quickly noticed his aunt Tia standing at the one end. It wasn’t very well lit but she seemed unhappy, and was staring at them sullenly. No one else saw her and they continued down the other end of the wall, but Miguel couldn’t help but wonder what his great aunt was thinking. Tia seemed to take notice of him at that moment and blinked, glower softening. She turned around and went out a back door…

“Miguel! Come on, Ahí Está El Detalle is on Tv tonight!” Rosita called and Miguel looked away from the empty hallway. Upon entering the sitting room Miguel looked over to the very old Television sitting on a decorative doily.

In the Rivera family Tv was something of was a rule breaker. Miguel’s grandmother relented on her rules about music when it came to Tv, but only background music. Theme songs and musical numbers had to be muted, and god help you if she found you humming anything, but even Abuelita seemed to understand that living a life free of music was easier said than done. Just like if you heard a song wandering through town or you went out for a night of fun and music just happened to be there as well. You can’t really tell a store to turn off its radio or yell at some kids listening to a song on their phone too loud, just because you're around. The music-less life was only the Rivera’s cross to bare and so long as you kept it off their property the family wouldn’t try to stop you.

The TV itself was muted now, commercials were on and they were commonly playing music. He looked back over the room as everyone there seemed to be relaxing after work. Julio was still eating cake and Héctor was perched beside him on the love seat nervously. Oscar and Filipe were also having cake, but they were eyeing Héctor as they did so from the large couch. Rosita was sitting in a rocking chair, fiddling around with a basket beside her before pulling up some knitting.

Miguel looked back at the tv. “So… how do you get movies and stuff here?”

“Has something to do with pelímemoria.” Rosita said, focused on her knitting a bit more than Miguel’s question.

“Pelímemoria?” Miguel blinked.

“Yeah, short for película de memoria.” Julio added,setting his empty plate down. “See, when you cross over here, you only take a few things with you. The clothes you're buried in, or sometimes the ones you die in, your bones, and your soul. Your soul has memories of who you are.”

“It also remembers movies you’ve seen. Tv shows. Songs. Etcétera.” Rosita said. “On this side you can go to place where they will copy a memory from your mind and make it view able. They do that with movies and stuff so we can watch it.”

“How do they do that?!” Miguel asked incredulously.

“Its magic I believe.” Rosita shrugged. “They have been doing it for as long as anyone here can remember. It helps us share memories of special times with family members that missed them after they died.”

“Mmm!” Julio jumped a little in his seat. “Héctor, I should go and get some of mine done, show you Coco’s wedding day!”

“I always wanted see that…” Héctor said softly. “That sounds nice.”

“Mmmmm.” Both Oscar and Filipe hummed at the same time, not sounding convinced.

“Mmmm?” Héctor echoed, looking at them.

The brother’s eyed each other before exhaling wearily. “Héctor.” Oscar started, grimacing a bit. “We understand we don’t have the whole story, so don’t take this the wrong way-”

“-We know you love our sister and Coco very much.” Filipe spoke. “It's just-”

“-If you really wanted all to be there for your family, why did you leave like you did?” Oscar finished.

The room fell into silence besides the clicking of Rosita’s knitting needles. Miguel frowned and wanted to inject in the conversation, but caught his great, great aunt’s eye. She shook her head at him as if reading his mind.

This conversation needs to happen.

“I ask myself that same question.” Héctor murmured, looking down at his hands.

“That's not really an answer.” Filipe said simply.

“I don’t really have one.” Héctor said. “Maybe I thought if I made it big I could support my family more, maybe I just wanted to try and follow my dream or may have been seduced by the dream of.. another.” Héctor’s face hardened for a moment, but he brushed it away. “I’m not going to pretend I didn’t make my decision, but I can admit it was the worst one I ever made…”

Now even the knitting needles fell silent.

Miguel swallowed and watched his twin uncles glance at each other thoughtfully.

“Told you.” Filipe said, crossing his arms smugly. Oscar rolled his eyes and snorted.

“I thought the same thing you did!” Oscar said, shoving his twin’s shoulder lightly.

“What?” Miguel asked. Héctor also looked back up in confusion.

“He hasn’t changed at all.” Filipe said, hands on his hips.

“He’s still the same old, honest Héctor.” Oscar added.

“Wait, your not mad?!” Héctor blinked.

“Meh.” They both shrugged. “Imelda is mad enough for all of us. Like I said, I don’t know the whole situation.”

“Before you left you were a good father and husband.” Oscar said. “I mean, Imelda’s never made a bad decision before. Why would she start by marrying some Cabrón? We always thought she did good marrying you.”

“You just don’t think for the long term.” Filipe nodded. “Which is good cause thats all Imelda dose. She kept you in line for the long haul and you helped her live in the moment.”

“Honestly you were made for each other almost.” Oscar agreed. “I mean, we all make mistakes and if she says you're staying for now, then she can’t be too cross still.”

“Ehhh.” Filipe muttered, making an uncertain motion with his hand.

“Yeah, your right, she definitely could still be pretty cross.” His brother winced.

“What we’re trying to say is it's not us you should be worried about pleasing.” Filipe finished. “Your ok with us, we know your a good guy, Imelda’s just still hurting and angry. If she decides to throw you back out then we have to stick by her decisions-”

“She is our sister.” Oscar supplied.

“-but we’re not mad at you.” Filipe said.

“We’re not too happy, but we’re not mad.” Oscar spoke.

“Ooooh! Oh! Oh!” Rosita waved her hands excitedly. “Its on! The movie’s on!” Miguel blinked out of his shock and turn to watch as the Grovas-Oro Films logo started to play. “Unmute it!”

“We can’t yet. The intro plays a little song, we need to wait for it to end.” Julio said.

“I don’t want to miss a moment of Cantinflas!” Rosita said excitedly. She waved at Miguel out the corner of her eye. “Sit! Sit!”

Miguel sat awkwardly between Héctor and Julio as the small screen started the movie. He had never watched this one before. Sure he watched old movies before but that was because he knew De La Cruz was in them. Back when he liked that jerk. He had heard of Cantinflas before, the man was a very famous actor and Miguel actually saw him a few times at the party last night. He was pretty funny.

The movie began and was unmuted, taking a bit of the strain from the room. It wasn’t five minutes in and Cantinflas already lifted a wallet. They watched as Cantinflas snuck into his girlfriend’s place of work, a rich man’s house, and was trying to get some dinner off her, but she refused to feed him until he killed something…

“Ah he’s such a glutton.” Julio laughed as Cantinflas kept refusing to kill until his girlfriend offer bandy and cigars for his services as well. Then he quickly asked for the gun.

The next scene was of that of the Owners of the house. The man accusing his wife of waiting up for a lover. They had a humorous exchange where the husband declared that the uncertainty of his wife’s loyalty was killing him and he’d rather she did just have a lover and know for sure, rather than suffer like this.

She sarcastically told him she’d get one, just to make him feel better.

The husband agreed with her before realizing what he just said and backtracking quickly.

Conversation turned back to the killing the husband ordered the maid, Cantinflas’s girlfriend, to do. The shot rang out in the yard and Miguel laughed when a few stray bullets broke apart the objects in the room. Mostly because Cantinflas refused to look as he shot.

They returned to Cantinflas informing his girlfriend of his successful kill. His girlfriend crying when she reveled all the fuss had been about killing a rabid dog.

Dog.

……

“W-where’s Dante?” Miguel asked, looking to his relatives.

“Dante?” Filipe looked back from the movie.

“My dog, the xolos I came here with…” Miguel said worriedly. “I haven’t seen him, not since-”

_Not since I yelled at him._

Miguel wanted to sink into the floor.

“Maybe he went back home mijo.” Rosita offered, not looking up from the screen. “Maybe he- AIE! Paz, you feed him! He killed that dog for his dinner, pay the man!” She gestured to the screen when Cantinfla’s girlfriend refuses to feed him for murdering the dog like she asked him to.

Miguel had other things on his mind. “What if he’s hurt?” Miguel asked. “What if got stuck somewhere or fell off the edge or-or-OR-!”

“Whoa, settle down Chamaco.”Papá Héctor spoke, patting him on the head. “Listen that dog isn’t the wisest, but he’s survived this long right? I’m sure he’s somewhere, we’ll look for him tomorrow. It starting to get dark out there now.” Miguel looked to the window, where the light was waning.

Miguel curled up on the couch tighter. “I hope so…”

Héctor nudged him. “Hey, don’t worry, we’ll get up bright and early to look around-”

“Miguel needs to stay home tomorrow.” Everyone froze when Imelda walked into the room. She looked over to the television before Oscar hurriedly muted it. Without the distraction Imelda eleberated. “I just finished reporting Miguel’s arrival to the agencies. Nobody was there, they’re closed today, but I left a message.” She grunted at that. “Once they call I’m sure they’ll want Miguel to come right in. They’ll need to go through some paperwork and other induction tests.”

“B-but Dante-”

“Your dog will be fine another day without you Miguel, this is important!” Imelda stared down at him sternly. “If we don’t get you through the system, then who knows how many rules we’ll have broken? You stay home.”

Miguel wilted.

“I’ll take a look around, before and after work. Don’t worry.” Héctor said quickly. “Leave it to me for tomorrow, Imelda’s right, we need to get you through customs properly.”

Imelda seemed to stare at her ex husband before she coughed. “Yes, well just be ready to go first thing in the morning.” She turned to go back out in the hall. “I need to go and check the supplies.”

“Don’t you want to watch the movie with us Imelda?” Oscar asked.

Imelda quickly glanced back at the TV. Paz and Cantinflas were talking as he finally was able to eat his meal. “No, I’m not in the mood. I’ll be in bed early tonight.” She looked back at everyone sharply and they all minutly ducked their head. “You should all do the same. Understand?”

They all nodded quickly.

She scanned the room one last time, then she briskly walked away.

Héctor hummed from Miguel’s side. He looked concerned. “Did she seem a little off?”

“No, that's what she’s like, at least since I’ve known her.” Julio spoke, leaning back on the couch.

“She didn’t seem any different to me.” Rosita said.

Héctor looked over to the twins, both of whom seemed to share his worry, but could only sigh in response. “She’s changed since you knew her Héctor.” Filipe said.

“Especially after you left.” Oscar added sadly.

Héctor fell silent and the tv unmuted. Miguel didn’t have any interest in it anymore though, he was too worried about Dante now to even think of it. How could he have forgotten… He glanced up at Héctor, hopefully his grandfather could find Dante tomorrow...

Although now that he was looking at him, Héctor still seemed conflicted. His eyes were not on the movie and they seemed glazed in thought. So deeply so that Miguel felt it best to not disturb him. Instead he tried to watch the show, even if to just make time go by faster...

However, two hours of sleep after nearly twenty four hours of turmoil was not enough to keep Miguel awake for much longer. Even if he was worried and just a little scared for Dante, he slowly started to slip back to sleep. He made it another thirty minutes before Héctor was hefting him off the couch.

Miguel jerked a bit as this happened. “ ‘m awake..” He muttered, rubbing his eyes.

“Yeah, for now.” Héctor said, rolling his eyes. He carried the boy up the stairs to his room. “You need to be up early tomorrow anyway. Imelda’s not wrong when she says the reception people will call you in, bright and early.” He was back in his bedroom now, Héctor putting him on the bed.

“Mama Imelda didn’t look happy about that.” Miguel muttered. She likely didn’t want to go there and waste half a day when she could be working. “I guess she’s not happy about anything though.”

“Hey!” Héctor put his hand over Miguel’s mouth. “Don’t say that, you’ll hurt her feelings.”

Miguel pulled his mouth free. “Well that's what it seems like.” He muttered, a little grumpy he couldn’t help look for his dog.

“Aie  Chamaco.” Héctor sighed wearily. “Don’t be so hard on her. She’s had a difficult life… and death. Its made her much different from how I remember her. She’s colder, but I know she’s still the Imelda I remember, somewhere inside her.”

“How do you know?” Miguel asked.

“Cause I saw her old self back when she was comforting you.” Héctor said. Had Miguel still had his ears, they would have redden. Yet he could still dip his head guiltily. Héctor didn’t seem to notice though, as he reminisced. “ Even back in the day she was very hot tempered but when she was kind, she was the sweetest creature you’d ever see. Now…” Héctor paused to take a breath, he shook his head. “Just give her time, you’ll see what I mean.”

“I will, I promise.” Miguel said softly.

“Good. Now you lay down and try to get a good night's sleep huh?” Héctor said, tucking the covers over him. “Busy day tomorrow. The officers will probably ask you a hundred questions. They’re always so uptight about everything.” He grumbled a little. “Everything.”

“Ok.” Miguel said, eyes already heavy.

“You’ll see, everything will be like clock work tomorrow and I promise, I will look as hard as I can for Dante.” Héctor said, running a hand through the boy’s hair again.

“Thanks.” Miguel said, looking up at him. “Buenas noches papá Héctor.”

“Buenas noches mijo.” Héctor said, tucking him in one last time before quietly going for the exit.

Miguel was asleep before he closed the door.

_________________________________________

Héctor was in a fog.

His mind wandered in a million different directions. Yet no matter where it went or what he remembered all he could think was _‘How could this have happened?’_

His Imelda. His poor, beautiful, sweet, firey Imelda. How he had fallen for her when he first laid eyes on her. She had been beating the crap out of some boys who crashed her quinceanera using her shoe. Her pointy dance shoe. Héctor was there, hired to play as the party went on, but all he could see was her. At first he was taken by her beauty, and a little fearful by the flame in her. Yet once the boys were chased away, the fire in her heart was stoked. It was not two minutes later that her younger cousin had fallen and scraped his knees, before he could even cry Imelda had him in her arms and was dancing around to Héctor’s music, singing to the boy. The kind warmth she radiated seem to flood the room and everything felt so calm and relaxed. Like a small fireplace on a cool night.

Now she was like a faucet in a very old home. Burning hot or icy cold.

 _‘This is your fault. This is all your fault.’_ The words rattled around in his empty skull. However it didn’t stop there. By leaving Imelda he had ruin Coco’s dreams of dancing. He had nearly driven a wedge between Imelda and Julio, by making her distrust men so much. He had selfishly forced Imelda into such a state of depression and anger, that she had banned music from her home. A ban that had gone on to this day. Which had cost Miguel his life.

It was hard to believe that simply stepping out the door that fateful night, all those years ago, had not only sealed Héctor’s fate, but Imelda’s and Coco and Miguel's as well. Not to mention all the other relatives. Julio, forced to give up dancing for love. Oscar and Felipe had to move in with Imelda to help her with her new business. Never having married before their death because of it.

It was impossible to have foreseen this sort of repercussion this far into the future. Yet he knew what leaving would have done to Coco and Imelda.

It wasn't for the first time Héctor cursed himself. It likely wouldn’t be the last.

He thought about going back to watch the movie with the others, but he was far too tired and his brain too foggy to do so. So he stepped out into the courtyard, intending to go to bed in the guest house.

“Hm.”

Héctor paused, looking over to the light in the courtyard. Tia was standing under it, alone in the yard glaring at him.

Yet another affected relative to add to the list.

“Hola…” He said nervously, waving to her.

Tia looked him up and down, scowl growing as she did so. “So.” She said after a tense moment, voice low and dangerous.

Héctor’s eyes darted before he echoed back in a slightly uneasy tone. “So….?”

“I don’t know how you did it.” She continued, crossing her arms. “And frankly I don’t care how you did it, but somehow you did.” She stood a little taller. “After everything that happened with  mi abuelita and mi mama and Miguel, you still managed to worm your way back in here.”

Héctor swallowed.

“Just so you know, I have not forgotten everything mi abuelita told me about you, since I was niñita. I will not be so easily corroded by your two sided talk, Tramposo. You can play happy abuelo for as long as it suits you but when you walk out again, and I know you will, I’ll personally make sure you don’t come back a third time.”

“No, no, I won’t-”

“Por supuesto.” Tia snapped sarcastically. “If you want to do something useful for once, make it leaving me alone. I’m not going to play along with your payasada.” She huffed angrily before walking to the house. “You never could stay in one place before, it won’t start now.”

Héctor watched her walk away before he mustered the courage to respond. “People can change.” He said evenly.

Tia paused at the doorway. She turned head just enough for her hair to sway slightly, but didn’t look at him. “No.” She said, voice deadly cold. “They don’t.” Then slammed and locked the door behind her.

* * *

The sour and nauseating medical smell was all Miguel needed to know he was back in the room. He opened his eyes wearily, but nothing had changed. His eyes darted to his corpse, half expecting the nightmare to bring it to life and frighten him.

It lay silent.

There was still light coming in from the windows to help him see, the room had seemed to be cleaner than before , as the tray of tools were gone and a mop with a bucket sat in the corner. Miguel took a steadying breath before going for the door. He only made it two meters before he stalled. He wanted to keep walking, but _something_ was stopping him. It wasn’t like a wall or leash, just a feeling in his heart that kept him from straying too far.

He looked quietly back at the body on the slab.

**_People’s souls have a connection with their body. Its made for them. Its their home._ **

Miguel chewed his lip, puzzled on what to do. He wanted to get out of here, cause the room was a little unsettling, but at the same time…

He walked back to his body, slowly reaching out for the cloth. Was he supposed to see it? Like some kind of ironic face your fears thing? Miguel’s fingers paused just a touch away. He took another breath to steel himself.

Yet when he went to yank it off his fingers slipped right through. He studied the digits with a scowl. Just as ghost like as before. Miguel puzzled , wondering why he was back here. Then he frozen when there was a noise outside the door. It sounded like muffled voices and footsteps. Miguel turned as the voice got louder, then the door handle jiggled as keys rattled.

It opened.

“-worst part of the job Mrs Herrera.” An older man came into the room. He was short and plump, with a thick white mustache and heavy glasses, wearing a lab coat. His face had many wrinkles, but not anywhere close to the amount Mama Coco sported. He walked with a slight hunch, but still didn’t need a cane. “Trust me now, you never get used to it. Something tells me that's a good thing, no matter how much it hurts.”

A younger woman followed after. She looked in her late twenties,and was tall but sported a very slim figure. She was also wearing a lab coat but she had a bright yellow tag on it that read ‘Intern’. “Well it might not be theirs.” She said, looking morose.

“Whether it’s theirs or not, we still have a dead kid on our hands, and he didn’t come out of the ground one day.” The man grunted, turning to look back at her. “He’s got to have family somewhere.”

“Your right, sorry Dr Mendoza.” She said quickly.

He waved her apology off easily. “Its fine. Times like this isn’t easy on anyone. Just help me for a second and bring the gurney in.” He came to a stop by the foot of the slab Miguel’s body was on. Herrera pulled in an uncomfortable looking table on wheels, all made of metal. They put it up alongside the slab. “Ok, one, two-” They both took hold of a stretcher like object under Miguel’s body then hefted it up and over to the gurney with a light grunt. “Three!” The man said one body was settled. He dusted off his hands before sighing. “Hate it when they’re that light.”

“Doctor, I’ve never been in the room before. What do we do? What do we say?” Herrera asked softly.

“You answer any questions and give condolences.” Mendoza said. “Try not to leave anything open ended, best to give complete closure by having all the facts lined up first.”

“But we don’t have any answers.” Herrera said, frowning and gesturing down to the corpse. “We don’t even know cause of death!”

“I’ll handle that. I’ll handle everything. You just need to observe for tonight.” The doctor took hold of the gurney and the two started to wheel it from the room. Miguel was stupefied by the events happening before him, but his feet instinctively followed after them, not wanting to be too far from his remains. The hall outside the room was lined with fluorescent lights. They flickered a little as Miguel walked under them, as if he was affecting them somehow. Neither worker noticed though. The walls were white and empty, the floors a polished white tile. Miguel immediately felt off in this environment. It was far too sterile, too clean, beyond any normal level.

They came to a new room. It was a little less off putting as it had been out in the hall. There was a black couch and a side table, on the wall was an old landscape painting  that looked like a reprinted Dr Atl. There on the side table was a selection of pamphlets and a tissue box.

Something heavy settled in Miguel’s stomach.

“Ok, bring them in.” Mendoza spoke into a walkie on his lab coat. It crackled in response and the man took a place by the wall. He looked to Mrs Herrera. “If you need to step out, then I’ll understand. The first one is the hardest, but like I said, never gets easier.” He looked back at the door. “Just try to do it quietly.”

“Yes Doctor.” She said.

They stared at the door expectantly. Miguel was just a little to the left of it, shaking. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to see this, if this was what he thought it was. He tried to slip back out of the room, but the space was just big enough the Miguel was trapped, his soul unwilling to travel just far enough to get out.

No,No,No,No-

The door opened again and a police officer held it quietly before he side stepped, allowing a couple in. Miguel shook harder when he saw it was his parents. His father, usually well put together, looked frazzled and unkempt. His hair wasn’t brushed and cloths askew. Miguel’s mother was similar, but she was shaking, eyes red and puffy. Enrique held his wife with his arm around her shoulders and both of them looked to the gurney, Luisa’s hands went to her mouth.

No.

“Mr and Mrs Rivera, thank you for coming in so late at night.” Dr Mandoza spoke softly, though neither of the Riveras looked up to him. “ I know this is difficult, usually we would use photos but due to the unusual nature of the passing, we need to have a first hand viewing. I hope you can understand.”

Neither spoke, eyes still trained on the sheet before them.

“I want you to take a moment to breath, stand by the couch and prepare yourselves.” The doctor said steadily. “We can take all the time you need. I just want you to be as braced as possible.”

Still they didn’t look away, but Miguel’s father nudged his wife with a soft “Luisa.” and they made their way around the table near the couches. They both took a deep, trembling breath, clutching at each other. Miguel walked towards them, clutching his hoodie tightly.

“Mama? Papa? He asked, hoping against the odds that they would somehow hear him. When they didn’t even look at him Miguel swallowed a rock in his throat.

“Ok, are you both ready?” The doctor asked patiently. They nodded, Enrique taking one of his wife’s hands to squeeze while Luisa clutched her eyes shut, mumbling under her breath. Miguel was just close enough to hear that she was praying. Looking between them the doctor nodded to himself, then turned to the sheet.

NO.

He reached out and grasped it gently in both hands. Miguel was struggling to breath, as were his parents.

NO!

It wasn’t a dramatic reveal like on tv. Where the blanket was ripped off or thrown down. Instead the man easily lifted and folded the covers until the head and shoulders were visible.

Miguel stared down at his own face.

He violently flinched when his mother let out a horrid noise. It was a cross between a scream and a sob, she doubled over as if someone had hit her square in the stomach. Her body physically heaved in emotion. “Mm-mi-mi-!!” She sobbed and hiccupped, clutching at her apron with a death grip in one hand, he husband’s hand in the other. “Por favor Dios! No Miguel! ¡No mi pequeño niño! ¡Mi bebé!” Miguel stared in horror as her knees started to buckle, but thankfully his Papa hugged her closer, keeping her upright. She pressed to him desperately, reaching up to clutch at him .“¡Nuestro chico! ¡Nuestro pobre bebé!” She just kept weeping.

Miguel’s papa was barely holding together. He was shaking, face tightened in agony.

Dr Mendoza waited quietly beside the slab, he looked over his shoulder to his Intern, who was struggling to keep her expression neutral. He said nothing to her, instead looking back at the grieving parents. “Mi más sentido pésame. I take it that this is your son?”

Enrique took a broad breath, shoulders hitching. “S-si…” His wife started to cry louder and he clung to her. “Please...Please can you tell us what- how this happened?”

“Mr and Mrs Rivera. I must be completely honest with you. We performed a full autopsy and we were unable to find the cause of death.” Dr Mendoza explained. “All screenings showed negative for poisons or venoms, there were no marks or bruises. All his organs were healthy.”

“Then he shouldn’t be dead!” Miguel twitched at his mother’s broken tone. “He should be alive! At home! With his family!”

“Luisa.” Her husband rocked her a bit and hushed her.

“We found him in the tomb of Ernesto De La Cruz. The stone sarcophagus lid inside was off balance and poorly secured.” Mendoza sighed.  “If I had to make a clinical impression. I would say it were a one in a million chance that he slipped and hit his upper neck region just right to kill him instantly.”

“The tomb of- what would he be doing in there?” Enrique asked, befuddled and grief stricken.

“Well, from what the officers on sight have told me, he had displaced Mr De La Cruz’s guitar. It was mounted over the coffin.”

Silence. Even Luisa quieted her cries for the moment.

 _Your a thief, your a thief and now they know._ _Now you will never be on the offernda._ Miguel shook as his parent’s digested that information.

“He-” Luisa muttered from where her face was pressed into her husband’s shoulder. “He wanted the guitar…” She took a deep breath and pulled back from her husband. “He wanted to play in the contest but then… then she broke his…” She shook with despair. “He would never have been- if we hadn’t let her break Miguel’s Guitar-”

“Luisa, my mother would never have known!” Enrique started, hands going out to his wife. She  shifted away from him, fists clenching. For a moment Miguel feared they would start to fight!

“No! No! Mama!” Miguel forced his icy legs to carry him to his mother’s side, even if she couldn’t hear him. “It's not abuelita's fault! Its mine! Its all mine!” He was begging that something, anything would let her hear him.

Yet, somehow, even if she couldn’t hear him, Luisa let out a sob and looked back at her husband, tired and weak, shoulders shaking harshly. “I know… I know… Its not her fault. She loves him so-” She stopped, face clenching in heartbreak and she went back into her husband’s arms. “Oh Dios… How do we tell her? The family…”

“ Mi alma.” Enrique held her.

“Oh this is all my fault…” She put her head into his neck. “I should have seen it, should have known… He wasn’t ok after that argument.” She stopped and shuttered. “ Oh Dios mío, we were in the cemetery right after, what if he was in there when- when” She broke off again into wet sobs.

Miguel couldn’t take it, he tried to go for the door desperately, but his soul hesitated when he tried to phase through. He kept trying to get closer, but his body would always hesitate at the last moment.

“I know you will want to take him home for a Velorios.” Dr Mendoza said. “We will need some paperwork done first and I’d like to have a word about a few other things, but for now, take your time.” He motioned to his Intern, who was a little red around the eyes. She went for the door, opening it for the two of them. “I’ll let you have a private moment alone with him. We’ll be right outside.”

And the doctor left them alone, or so he thought, walking right through Miguel’s spirit to the door. Miguel could only listen to his parent’s hushed words and crys to each other helplessly. He didn’t want to hear, to see. Plugging his ears did nothing.

“Luisa, I realize how hard this is…” Enrique said softly to his mourning wife. “But please, try to relax, for- for the baby.” Miguel peeked over his shoulder to his father putting a hand to his wife’s large stomach.

She took a deep breath, placing her hand over his own. Looking back to the body of her son, Luisa sniffled and stepped forwards, leaning over Miguel’s remains. She reached out hand and hesitantly put it to his hair. “Look at him Kike.” She whispered with a sad, but warm smile and brushed her sons hair back. She sniffled again. “He looks so peaceful…”

Miguel’s eyes darted to his body. He was much paler and looked just a titch sunken in the face, but he did look as though he were just sleeping. His mother put a hand to his cheek before whimpering. “Oh, he’s cold…”

Enrique said nothing and  came to her side. He reached under the sheet and pulled out Miguel's limp hand, squeezing it. “He is…” He muttered softly. There was a few seconds where Enrique ran his thumb over Miguel’s knuckles, then he shivered, shoulder’s quaking. Luisa stopped to stared at him, but pulled her husband into her arms when he shook with silent tears.

Miguel watched from the door, tears gathering in his own eyes and he pulled his hoodie up to tightly wrap around his head.

_This is my fault. I did this to them and for what?! Music!? I’m a horrible son! Horrible! Horrible! Horrible!-_

Miguel couldn’t take the sobbing or the sight of them anymore. Instead he just screamed in sorrow and turned away-

* * *

 

-thumping to the floor as he rolled out of bed. Miguel spasmed in the darkness, his bed sheets in a mess with him tangled in them on the floor. Desperately he scrambled out of the sheets as much as he could, sobbing loudly.

That dream was awful. His heart ached as his mind replayed moment after moment back to him. His mother’s break down, his father’s crumbling resolve. The pain, the sorrow… Miguel pulled his hood up and curled up on the ground, weeping. He wished the shadows around him would swallow him whole. Wished he could go back in time.

Wished second death would just take him.

Through his his hood, the blankets and the darkness, Miguel heard a door creaking open.

“Miguel?” Mama Imelda’s voice entered the room, but it only took the sight of him to have her come to his side. She put a hand to his back in concern. “What happened? Are you alright?” She asked quietly.

Miguel shook but was comforted by her touch enough to quiet his weeping. With a wet snuffle he looked up at her. “I- I had a b-bad dream…”

“What was it about?” Imelda asked, petting his hair. She pulled him to a sitting position so he wasn’t awkwardly cocooned on the floor and set him at her side.

“Mi-” He struggled to control his emotions again, biting his lip to keep from sobbing again. His grandmother put her arm over his shoulder and gave him a small squeeze. “M-mis padres, I dreamt that they-ey-” Miguel’s throat tightened, almost choking on emotion. ‘They came to get my body from t-the morgue-” He curled into his grandmother’s side. “It was hor-rrible! I never want to have that dream again!”

Imelda stopped moving, just holding Miguel to her side softly. At the lull of response, Miguel felt his insides knot. He pushed closer in search of comfort before whispering. “T-that wasn’t a dream… was it?”

Instead of responding Imelda scooped him up off the floor and carried him to her room. Really it was all the answer Miguel needed.

It was real. He really saw his parents. He saw them crying over his dead body!

_Horrible, horrible, horrible-!_

Imelda ripped the blanket off her bed and swaddled him in it like he was an infant. As soon as he was coiled inside she put him on the bed carefully. The warm and snug fitting warp was a comfort, but it did nothing to ease Miguel’s grief. He was bawling as she hurried around the room behind him. He couldn’t stop thinking about his parent’s expressions. The pain and sorrow he had thoughtlessly left behind.

How or why he had seen it, Miguel didn’t know… but a thought came to him as Imelda sat down on the bed with him.“I-I saw that because I so selfish and st-stupid!” Miguel croaked out blearily. “To see what I’ve done-! To face all the hurt I made and teach me a lesson! This is all mi estúpida falla!”

“Miguel, no. No, no ,no, Miguelito. It's not your fault.” Imelda shushed him softly, pulling his bundled form into her lap.  “What you saw- That wasn’t a punishment. It was just a very horrible coincidence that you were sleeping when they went to get you…”

“W-what do you mean?” Miguel asked tearily.

“Everyone get those kinds of dreams right after they die Miguel. Your soul and your body do not sever easily. We call them Ecos de la vida. When your soul wanders back to the flesh as you sleep in this world. It only lasts a month at most. Some people think it helps us see how much we meant to others, our family and friends.” She sighed wearily. “But it can be traumatic as well. I’m so sorry Miguel, I completely forgot about them with everything else going on with your death. I should have warned you.” She used the corner of the blanked to wipe off Miguel’s cheeks. “What you saw… You should never have seen, not so young.”

“I really hurt them…” Miguel whimpered.

“It's only because you loved each other so much Miguel.” Imelda said softly, rocking him slightly. “I need you to understand Miguel, nothing that happens next is your fault. You have no control over how everyone will react. It's important that we feel how we all need to feel.” She leaned back. “But don’t put all that emotion on your shoulders. No human being could carry such a weight. You understand?”

Miguel wiped at his eyes. “ I guess so…”

Imelda sighed and reached for something on the side table. She looked at the clock she had grabbed. “We still need to be up early tomorrow.” She shifted Miguel  in her arms as she set the clock back and picked something else up. “You have had enough echos for tonight mijo. Take some of this. I’ve had these since Tia passed.” She pressed a pill into Miguel's hand, holding a glass of water in her grasp. “This will put you out for the rest of the night, without any dreams.”

Miguel snuffled but put the pill in his mouth, taking a swig of water before swallowing. “G-gracias…”

“De nada Miguel.” She lay him back down on the bed. “You can spend the night here. Don’t be afraid to wake me up for anything.” She stood up, taking an extra blanket from the foot of the bed. “The pill should be working very soon, just try and relax.”

As Mama Imelda lay down next to him, Miguel took a shuddering breath. Though he knew  he wouldn’t go back again tonight, the memories still haunted him.“They know I t-took the guitar. They know I’m a t-theif…” He said softly. “They’ll never put me on the offerenda… I won’t see them again… Not until they die..”

“Miguel, of course they will put you on the offerenda. You’re their son.” His great, great grandmother pull him back to her side. “No matter what you did, they will love you and honour you. Thats what family does.”

“But… Hector wasn’t put on the offerenda.” Miguel sniffled.

Imelda fell silent, running her hand through his hair. She took a deep breath and patted him on the back. “Just try to rest Miguel.”

Miguel put his face into the crook of Mama Imelda’s neck. Breathing in the smell of leather he felt himself relax just a titch more. He didn’t believe there was a day his home, room, even Miguel himself, hadn’t smelt of leather. The scent was calming. Everything started to get hazy as the pill took affect and as nice as it would be to get a full night's sleep, Miguel was scared.

If his family didn’t put him up on the offrenda like he feared, than these ‘echos’ maybe the last time he’ll see them for a long time. Even if it wasn’t under pleasant circumstances, he didn’t want to waste the opportunity.

He just wished he could tell them he was sorry.

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I've tried to use a touch more Spanish in this chapter. Let me know if its off.
> 
> OK so this chapter got heavy again, but the main focus was Hector and Miguel meeting up with the rest of the family again. Their all neutral/ loving towards Miguel, but with Hector it all depends. Rosita and Julio have no idea what he's like. Coco has spoken about him, but even then she was pretty young when he was there. I figured at that age Imelda would just try to not think about Hector and focus on her business. Once Tia and Elena were born and old enough, Imelda would have likely been close to retiring, or slowing down. With more time to think she would start to get bitter over Hector's leaving again, and her anger would override actual memories of Hector. I also figured that Imelda would watch the girls while their parents were working, and Imelda would be all mad about Hector and a little senile and she'd rant about him. Ergo why Elena and Tia hate Hector more than Coco's generation. Felipe and Oscar knew Hector from when he was dating Imelda. Maybe even before, so they know him the best besides Imelda herself.
> 
> Next chapter? An introductory to the red tape bureaucracy of becoming dead. Also more echos, though they will be toned down from now on. Sorry, this thing goes up to eleven. We'll tone it down to six at the highest. Geeze that last bit was hard to write...


	3. De Tal Palo, Tal Astilla.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, long time no see! This chapter is gonna be more upbeat then the last two, so hopefully its not out of place. I meant it to be a kinda pick me up from the last one. Hopefully that how it comes out! Seriously guys, sorry it took so long, but please enjoy!

“Mama?”

 

In a small apartment kitchen dishes clinked softly as they were washed. Without turning the mother spoke. “Yes Mija?”

 

“When is Papa coming home?”

 

The woman paused, giving a sigh of frustration, but she school herself before looking over her shoulder. Coco had gotten so much bigger since Hector had left. She was six now, and had long hair still tied into pigtails, she was wearing her long nightgown as she watched her mother from the archway, head tilted in question. “Mija…” Imelda said, shaking her head. “We talked about this, he’s not coming home.”

 

Instead of crying like most girls her age, Socorro ‘Coco’ Juanita Rivera crossed her arms and scowled. “He is Mama. He promised so he is.”

 

“Por el amor de Dios” Imelda muttered, putting the dishes down and wiping off her hands on her apron. She knelt to her daughter. “Coco, he hasn’t come home in three years. No letters. No money. Nada. He is not coming home.”

 

“Maybe he’s hurt, or needs help?” Coco said.

 

Imelda paused at that thought but brushed it away. “And if he was, then why would his amigo not tell us?” She asked. “Tio Ernesto told me over the phone-”

 

“I don’t like him. His eyebrows are weird.”

 

“Coco.” Imelda snapped her fingers icily, quieting the girl with a glare of her own. “Don’t be rude.” Honestly Imelda didn’t like Ernesto either, for a number of reasons, but it wouldn’t do to teach Coco to be impolite. “Ernesto sent us some money to help startup the business. Without him we would not have the store bellow or the apartment above it.”

 

“Without him, Papa would be home!” Coco snapped.

 

Well. She was quick as a whip, this one. De tal palo, tal astilla.

 

“Mija…” Imelda struggled for something to say before grunting. “He isn’t coming home and that is that!”

 

“Why?” Coco asked.

 

“BECAUSE.” Imelda grunted out angrily. Ernesto told her over the phone that he had last seen Hector with some- some- SOME mujerzuelas at the bar in Mexico City. Then he had awoken to the hotel room cleared of Hector’s things besides his guitar, a songbook and a note. Basically saying he got in good with some rich American girl and left with her.

 

Imelda wasn’t sure what to believe but she was angry and needed to focus her attention where it was deserved. Coco needed her. Hector would have to wait. Forever preferably.

 

“Your just mad you had a big fight before he left!” Coco said back.

 

They had. Hector was all gunho to go and she wanted him to stay with her. They had a pretty heated discussion, which wasn’t helped by Ernesto complaining that he wanted to leave already. She told him that if he left, to not come back.

 

Maybe that's why he ran off with that American girl. Maybe she let him do as he pleased whenever it suited him.

 

“He told me he loved me but you just yelled at him! So he didn’t say it to you-”

 

“COCO.” Imelda rosed to her full hight, dwarfing the child. Her tone had the girl wincing, realising a line was crossed. “GO TO BED!”

 

Coco waived, but her mother deepened her scowl and that had the girl running to her room. Imelda turned and furiously finished the dishes. Upset by Coco’s words and that she had lost her temper with su tesoro…

 

After the dishes were done Imelda chose to turn in. Another long day of shoemaking awaited tomorrow and she needed to be rested. She marched angrily around the room, changing and undoing her hair. Yet when the lights were out and she was in bed, all she had were her thoughts to keep her company.

 

**_‘He told me he loved me!’_ **

 

 _‘He told me that to, once upon a time.’_ Imelda frowned.

 

Ernesto’s words floated around in her head. _“I’m so sorry Imelda but he’s taken off on both of us. I didn’t know how to tell you this but last I saw of him, he had a pretty, blonde, American girl on his arm.”_

 

Blonde, pah! What's so good about that? Imelda ran a hand through her locks quietly.  

 

**_“Your just mad you had a big fight before he left!”_ **

 

_“Imelda please, this is our big chance!” Hector had said sternly. “Ernesto and I, we could be famous! I can get inspiration for my songs! Make more money!”_

 

 _“Then don’t bother coming back to us paletos,_ _Señor_ _mandamás!” Imelda shouted before slamming the door in his face. She heard him call her name a few times through the door, but it took less than half an hour for them to leave._

 

Imelda was a woman who firmly believed that tears didn’t do herself any good. Sure she didn’t think the same for other people, depending on what they were crying about, but for herself, tears were a waste of time. Tears wouldn’t bring Hector home, tears wouldn’t make shoes and tears wouldn’t raise Coco.

 

However, on nights like this, it was hard not to cry. Imelda felt she hide these things well enough, she made not a sound or a shook an inch, but a few minutes later the door creaked behind her.

 

Imelda practically flew up to look at the door, hopeful-

 

Yet it was just Coco, the girl peeking her head inside the room. Slightly disappointed and still unhappy with her daughter’s behaviour, she frowned softly. “Coco, you supposed to be in your room for the night.” Imelda said in an even tone. “Go back to bed.”

 

She lay back down, her back to the door. She listened for the distinct creaking of the floorboards that told her that her mija was going back to bed. Instead her own mattress sunk down as the girl crawled up with her. “Coco.” Imelda said in warning, though she wasn't feeling up to taking the girl back to bed.

 

“Mama.” The girl spoke, walking around on the bed to sit at her mother’s side. Though her eyes were closed, Imelda felt a small hand on her cheek. “I’m sorry Mama. I love you.”

 

Imelda took a deep, steadying breath before pulling Coco down to the bed and tucking her in at her side. “I love you to Coco, now try to get some rest.”

 

__

It felt like it did back then. Only it wasn’t Coco that Imelda had nuzzled against her. She ran her hand through Miguel’s short hair quietly, looking out the nearby window to the dawning sun. She hadn’t slept a wink since Miguel had joined her. She had gotten a few good hours before Pepita, laying on her balcony just a few feet away, woke her up. She wouldn’t have heard Miguel’s crys otherwise.

 

The woman sighed and looked down at the boy, exhausted from the rollercoaster ride the last few days had been. Miguel was completely out, laying snuggled against her in a deep sleep. The pill she had given him was nothing to sneeze at. If the final death could be caused by overdoses or poisoning, then Imelda wouldn’t have given it to him. Infact had it been a regular echo she wouldn’t have bothered and just rode the aftermath out with him.

 

But what Miguel had seen…

 

Well she couldn’t imagine. When Imelda herself had died, she had been going through customs and reception at the time Coco or Julio found her body, and her echos were just watching the Velorio as her family and friends come to mourn her before the actual funeral. It was hard to watch her family be so somber, she had wished she could tell them what death was like, so they wouldn’t be so upset. That eventually the would all meet again.

 

Imelda didn’t want to imagine being picked up at the morgue by her parents. She didn’t even want to think about what Enrique and Luisa were going through, burying a child. It was true what they say, Un padre nunca debe enterrar a su hijo, it was terrible from both sides.

 

So she gave him something to quiet the painful echos and his aching soul. It was nothing better than a band aid solution for the time being, she knew that much. Yet Miguel needed rest, even for one night. He deserved that, it was the least he could get for now. She was just thankful she had a few left over from when Victoria had needed them.

 

Oh how her poor Tia had needed them.

 

Imelda grunted, it was best to not let such thoughts fester. At least for too long. She slipped out from the bed carefully, so as not to disturb her grandson. Thought it wasn’t really needed, as it seemed nothing short of an earthquake would wake Miguel now. Checking the clock she saw it was about five forty. She’d usually be waking up about now. Today she was tempted to give in and stay in bed.

 

Thankfully she had never given in to such feelings before.

 

Ring! Ring! Ri-

 

Imelda snacthed the bedisde phone up before it could wake anyone else. “Digame.” She said icily, knowing this was the personal line and not any of her customers.

 

“Ah!Ah- S-S-señora Imelda Riviera?” The small, nervous voice asked.

 

Imelda massaged her brow, irritated to have a call so early. “Si, Si. Qué es?”

 

“This is- ehrm- José Martinez. From the Arrival-Departure Agency? You made a call yesterday?”

 

“Ah you got my message, then you know we need an appointment as soon as possible?” She said quickly.

 

“Si! Si! We have an opening at nine this morning! The process will take a while but you should be out before lunch-”

 

“Good, we’ll be there on the dot.” Imelda spoke.

 

“Oh-! Yes, very good.” José said nervously. “T-then I shall make the appointment. See you later this morning… and ugh, señora…”

 

“Yes? What is it?” She grunted, getting more annoyed that he was cutting into her prep time.

 

“Condolencias.”

 

“Oh.” Imelda paused, her growing frustration evaporating like a snowflake on a hot highway. “Ah, gracias… Muchas gracias.” She hung up the phone wearily and looked back down at Miguel.

 

He hadn’t moved and was still sound asleep. Imelda smiled softly and tucked his blanket in around him. Best he should get one more hour of sleep. Hopefully get the rest of the pill out of his system. It would give her time to get bathed and dressed.

 

She slipped into her master bathroom, starting to fill up the tub. With the long day of bureaucracy ahead she was hoping a nice warm soak would help keep her collected… Likely wouldn’t help later, but was a nice idea for now.

 

As she sunk into the water, she tried to ignore her troubles. There was no ninety year issue with Hector. No dead Miguel. No business to run or anything else to worry about. For the next half an hour nothing else existed but Imelda, the bathroom and the water.

 

Which was easier said than done.

________________________________________________________________

 

Miguel didn’t have any echos the rest of the night.

 

Well, at least none he saw well enough to remember. From the moment he fell asleep in Mama Imelda’s bed there was darkness and the occasional flashes of light. Like he was sitting in a pitch black movie theater and the projector randomly flickers on and off. He heard the occasional sound though. Like a sob or a fragmented sentence. Sometimes he could feel something, like the bump of a moving vehicle. For the most part though, the night was uneventful.

 

So uneventful that when Mama Imelda started to shake his shoulder, Miguel felt like no time had passed since he had fallen asleep. He groaned softly in resistance of the waking world.

 

“Levántanse dormilones.” His mama Imelda spoke in a gentle tone, but tugged Miguel up into a seated position as she did so. He rubbed his eyes, trying to rouse himself, but everything felt fuzzy. Like the rest of the world was so far away and blurry around the edges. He jumped when Mama Imelda held his face in her hand, keeping it steady as she started to brush out his hair. “Its seven thirty and we need to be at the Arrival-Departure Agency’s building before nine. “

 

Time was an almost non existent concept to Miguel at the moment. Yet he still allowed Mama Imelda to brush out his hair and straighten his clothes. She tsked when she looked over his wrinkled hoodie. “It's a shame we don’t have more time to buy some better cloths. These are too casual for an office space.”

 

“I like my hoodie.” Miguel said. Well he meant to say that. All that came out was “I-ke m-oodie.”

 

“Miguel, you feeling ok?” Imelda asked, tipping his chin up to look him in the eyes.

 

Miguel suppress a yawn and the world cleared a some more. “Si…” He mumbled a little, but it was an improvement from before. “I’m just really sleepy.”

 

“I guess the medication hasn’t worn off completely. I’m sure if you keep moving around it will burn through the last stint of it quicker.” Imelda said, picking him up under his arms and putting down on his feet. “Let's get you something small to eat. Like a banana or something. Then we’ll get moving to the trollies.”

 

She hooked her arm over Miguel’s shoulders, leading out of the bedroom and carefully down the steps. Voices get louder as they entered the dining room and Miguel wobbled when Mama Imelda released him to pull out a chair. He slumped into it somnolently.

 

Across the table his twin great uncles were chatting over papers and having some coffee. They looked up at him as Mama Imelda wandered off to the kitchen. They both frowned.

 

“Oh I’ve seen that look before.” Filipe groaned. “Imelda-”

 

“You didn’t give him any of Tia’s old stuff did you?” Oscar finished for his brother, they both looked at the archway as Imelda returned with an orange.

 

“I did.” She grunted, putting the orange down in front of Miguel with a little more force than necessary. “He had a VERY rough night. Don’t ask.” Miguel didn’t look up at her, choosing to imagine her expression based on Oscar and Felipe's wincing reactions. Instead he pulled the orange closer and tried to start peeling it.

 

When Imelda was sure her brothers wouldn’t ask any questions that were far to early in the morning to be answered, she went back to the kitchen. “I’m getting myself a coffee. Anyone else need some while I’m at it?”

 

“Algo para mi por favor.” Aunt Rosita said, her face behind a newspaper.

 

Blam! Blam! Blam!

 

“The hell is that-?”

 

“Langue, los niño están presentes!” Imelda’s disembodied voice rang out from the other room, cutting Julio off. The man sinking into his shirt.

 

“Si! Si! I forgot! Sorry!” He backpedaled quickly.

 

“Oh it must be Hector! Someone locked the door!” Rosita frowned, putting her paper away and leaning on her chair to look. “Should I let him in?”

 

There was a quiet moment, all eyes darted to the kitchen save Miguel’s who was still struggling with his orange tiredly. The matriarch sighed in an almost dramatic fashion, but finished with a quick. “Yes…”

 

Rosita quickly stood to do so. As she wandered off to the front door, Imelda entered, holding two coffee cups, one of which she was sipping. “Imelda-” Oscar began again, grimacing when she glared at him over the rim.

 

“We were just saying before, Tia’s stuff, its very, very old right? Has to be at least twenty odd years-”

 

“I know very well how old Tia’s medication is. It has no expiry date. I made sure to check it.” Imelda grunted. “Are you saying I would give Miguel something without-”

 

“NO!” They both said at once anxiously.

 

“Buenos dias!” Hector called as he came in with Rosita. The rest of the family spared him a glace before Imelda continued like he hadn’t entered.

 

“I’ll have you two know I wouldn’t use Tia’s medication with good reason!” She growled. Everyone at the table sunk lower in their seats at her tone. Save Miguel, who was still too out of it to be frustrated with his unpeeled orange, but with it enough to realize it was usually half eaten by now.

 

When her brothers nodded again Imelda stepped back from them, briskly handing Rosita her coffee. The woman smiled gratefully and spoke a soft thank you.

 

“Uh, what are you guys talking about with Tia’s-” Hector frozen when Imelda glared at him out the corner of her eye. He quickly took the closest seat beside Miguel. “Nevermind!” He said with a forced and nervous smile.

 

Imelda sighed and took a seat beside Julio, taking a swig of her coffee like it wasn’t burning hot.

 

Hector fiddle with his thumbs at the tense atmosphere. Half thankful he hadn’t cause it but just wanting it to disperse. “So….” He started, blinking as everyone paused their actions to look at him. “Why is Tia called that?” He glanced around. “She ah, is Victoria right?”

 

“Si.” Imelda frowned.

 

“I just… Tia?” He continued, uncertain of how thick the ice was he starting to tread on was.

 

They were all quiet, but then Julio chuckled softly. “She ah, she got that when she and Elena were kids.”

 

The Roseita chuckled. “Oh I remember that! They were so cute back then!”

 

Julio nodded with his sister. “You see, when they were both little, Victoria was the younger sister but she was much more mature.” He shook his head. “One day when they were playing with Rosita and Victoria kept telling her sister that she wasn’t doing… well something the right way.”

 

“Who can remember?” Rosita agreed.

 

“So Elena turned to her and says ‘Your more like a grown up then Tia Rosita.’ “ Julio laughed. “Then Elena decided that Rosita was her sister and Victoria was her aunt! We couldn’t get her to stop calling Victoria ‘Tia’ for almost two weeks.” The man shrugged in amusement. “By the time she stopped we had gotten used to it, so it stuck.”

 

“Not to mention it kinda fits.” Rosita added. “Vic **t** or **ia.** Tia. Has the letters in it.”

 

“Things got much more confusing when Berto was born.” Julio snickered.

 

“Who’s Berto?” Hector asked, even though he had inkling of who that could be. Miguel twitched in confusion when Hector absentmindedly took the unpeeled orange from him. Hector didn’t look down as he quickly pulled enough of the skin away to hand Miguel a wedge. He continued to peel as the conversation went on. Miguel just sleepily ate his finally freed piece of fruit.

 

“That's Elena’s boy. Well her first boy!” Julio explained. “Oh man was he a big baby when was born! Eight point two kilograms!”

 

“Holey smokes!” Hector gocked. “Thats a big baby! Coco was only three I think? Right?”

 

“Always feels like more.” Imelda muttered into her coffee in response.

 

“Her next two were were nothing in comparison!” Julio nodded. “Gloria and Enrique were born like that!” He snapped his fingers and shrugged. “Or so she said.”

 

Miguel looked up when he heard his father’s name, but was quickly distracted with another section of orange from Hector.

 

“Berto has four kids right now! Able was just as big as his Papa when he was born!” Julio smiled. “I wasn’t around for Rosa or the twins, but I saw them grow up every Día de Muertos. Gloria hasn’t had any yet, but Enrique has one on the way and-” The man paused, eyes darting to Miguel uneasily.

 

Miguel shoveled another orange wedge into his mouth quietly.

 

“Well we should get going.” Imelda said, putting her cup down. “We’ll be late if we don’t get moving.” She stood from her seat, pointing to Hector as she did so. “Make sure you start doing your chores.”

 

“Yes’um.” Hector said quickly, handing Miguel the rest of the peeled orange.

 

Miguel, though he had been floating through most of this conversation, looked up when something crossed his mind. “Are you gonna look for Dante?” He asked blearily.   

 

“Of course! I can do both!” Hector spoke easily.

 

“How? Last time anyone saw that dog he was downtown. This house is four hours away from downtown.” Imelda gunted. “So how can you look for a dog downtown and clean this house at the same time?”

 

“Well-ah-...” Hector fumbled and Imelda squinted at him suspiciously.

 

“Your not going to try and get out of house work are you?”

 

“What?! Of course not!” Hector spluttered. “I swear! I just need to find a way to do both!”

 

Imelda made a expression of disbelief.

 

“I have an idea!” Rosita spoke, getting up from the table herself. “Why doesn't Hector come grocery shopping with me? The stalls downtown are much more competitively priced than the ones around here! We can shop, get a deal and look for dante! Hector can help me carry everything.”

 

Imelda hummed softly. “Well… I suppose it is fresher downtown.”

 

“See! I need to get the list together, but we can go in an hour or so! That gives Hector sometimes to clean.” Rosita smiled. ”You two go on ahead or you’ll be late!”

 

Imelda paused and looked at the clock on the wall. “Your right! We need to get going! Miguel, come on!” She took the boy by the hand as he just finished the last of his orange and got him standing. Thankfully he was more steady on his feet now than he had been before. “We have forty minutes and the trolley can take a while.”

 

“Si Mama Imelda…” Miguel yawned and allowed himself to be lead outside, hand in hand. Hector followed them to the door quietly, blinking when Rosita handed him a rake and pointed at the leaves in the courtyard.

 

“By the time thats done, we can go!” She said cheerily, going back inside.

 

Hector looked over the yard with a good natured sigh, but before he started, he couldn’t help looking at Miguel and Imelda once more.

 

It wasn’t hard to remember when Imelda would take a much smaller, pigtailed child to the market like that.

______________________________________________________

 

The trolly trip was pretty routine. Miguel kept nodding off to sleep, but Imelda would shake him back to the waking world lightly. It didn’t take too much longer for Miguel’s systems to get with the program but it slightly irritating.

 

Once they arrived it was a quick walk to the Arrival-Departure Agency building. It was rather impressive looking with 13 tall steps leading up to the door. It was also old, like older than any building Miguel had ever seen. Definitely aztec in nature, it looked like solid stone, with two stone serpent heads on either end of the staircase, almost guarding the entry. Thankfully there was a wooden ramp going over the large steps to making scaling them easier and once they managed inside Miguel was surprised. While the outer area was clearly original, with heavy stone lining the walls, it was divided up inside with wooden walls. There was a three story headspace in the lobby, with large lights illuminating the area. The space was very large and Miguel could already make out some different areas. There was a receptionist area with multiple teller’s booths to help clients, then a large waiting area across the building, where some skeletons sat together, huddled in groups. Some looked tired, like they had been there a day or so.

 

“What are they waiting for?” Miguel asked his grandmother as they walked in briskly. Imelda’s eyes looked over a she hummed in disinterest.

 

“They are waiting for a relative to arrive. The agency will be notified when someone is about to pass, or has a near death experience, then they will call the family. While it happens you wait in that Lobby for them to come out with a worker, or for a worker to tell you that they survived and will not be joining this world for the time being.” Imelda said. “Used to be that they’d wait for them to actually die before calling, but that just puts stress on the newly departed. Add in the fact that you usually want the family to put their eyes in so they’re blind the whole time and, well, it wasn't worth the trouble. Now you wait for a few hours for them to come out.”

 

Miguel hummed, looking back at the lobby waiting area, where skeletons kept looking up at a set of large, wooden doors, waiting for their family member to arrive. However his view was obstructed by a glass case. He looked down and saw it had some artifacts in it. It was mostly stone tools but he quickly noted two chiseled circular stones with black paint dots in the middle. There was a description.

 

**_Ojos de piedra_ **

Fecha desconocida

_Ojos originales hechos por los primeros humanos muertos_

 

Miguel blinked, as they walked by. Stone eyes, that's how the first dead people here saw things. Miguel wondered if they saw things as well as the glass ones, or if putting any old rock in your head would work like eyes.

 

“Mantenga.” Imelda spoke, taking him by the arm and leading him on. “You can look at those later. We have an appointment to keep.”

 

“Si Mama Imelda.” Miguel nodded, though he looked over his shoulder one last time.

 

They came to one of the free tellers, she looked up and smiled when they approached. “Hello! Welcome to the A-D Agency building! How may I help you?”

 

“We have an appointment for nine.” Imelda said, looking to the clock on the wall discreetly. She smiled when she saw they were five minutes early. “Riviera.”

 

“Ah yes! A special case.” She nodded and pointed to a door behind her, pushing open a gate in the front of the booth. “Go right through there, they are expecting you.”

 

“Thank you.” Imelda lead the boy into the back area, where it was more compact than the lobby. They went down a hallway to a station where a woman was waiting.

 

“Riviera?” She asked, looking up from her computer. When they nodded she had them sit. “Welcome, my name is Ximena Delgado. Thank you for informing us of your grandson’s… unusual passing as soon as you were able.” She leaned back in her seat. “We need to do a quick scan and then Miguel has to go through customs. We have some paperwork to fill out but you can do that while he’s being processed señora.”

 

“Alright.” Imedla agreed, then she bent over to put her head next to Miguel’s.

 

“What are they scanning for?” Miguel asked, looking between them as the woman typed into her computer, a scanner beside it.

 

“Just making sure we are actually related.” Imelda sighed. “

 

“Si, we must take extra steps with children. Sometimes younger arrivals don’t even know any of their relatives in the land of the dead. It's better if we have some evidence, like face structure, paperwork or DNA. Course DNA is much more difficult to get on this side.” Ximena said as she wrote. “Ok, hold still!”

 

The scanner clicked and the two Riveras held still, before Ximena smiled. “Yes, I’m seeing enough similarities to pass the minimum requirements.” She said. “Ok, we’ll settle the paperwork, you just go down this hallway Miguel, to the front area. Then you’ll be in customs.”

 

“Alright.” Miguel said, standing up and walking a bit down the hall, he looked back to the two women for a moment, but they were both busy talking and taking up pens. The hall was long and Miguel kept walking, no doors on either side. The hall kept getting darker and there was an odd energetic feeling in the air. He didn’t notice at first, but things got so dark he couldn’t really see.

 

Then he stumbled.

 

Miguel yelped, hopping on the floor and falling to the ground, his yell echoing like he was in a chasm. It sounded like some marbles had fallen on the floor and Miguel managed to sit up and rub his head.

 

“I think you dropped these.” A man said and held something out. Miguel looked up and found a gloved hand offering him something. Miguel reached out and took them, finding the objects to be-

 

To be his glass eyes.

 

He put a hand to his face and felt flesh over bone. “Whoa…” Miguel muttered.

 

“Yes, not many come in the back door, hehe.” The man chuckled. Miguel looked back up at him, eyes widening. The figure was tall, and had two arms and two legs. It seemed like an strange thing to bring up, unless you saw the shambling, incoherent swath of shapes that made up the rest of it. Miguel was looking at it with his own two, flesh and blood eyes, and he couldn’t honestly describe it. Though it wasn't scary persay. Just off putting.

 

“Who are you?” Miguel asked, eyes squinting.

 

The figure lifted something up in his hand, and Miguel realized it was a file. The object look so strangely normal compared to the thing holding it.

 

“I have many names. Live as long as I do and you’ll be called anything.” It chuckled. “Though just call me Mortimer.”

 

Miguel rubbed the back of his head in confusion, muttering to himself. “..me golpeé la cabeza…?”

 

“Huh? What was that?” Mortimer asked. “I’m a transfer here so I don’t speak Spanish very well yet.”

 

“Nothing…” Miguel said. “I’m just wondering if this is a dream or something.”

 

“No,no. Your not concussed. This is just-” He threw his hands out grandly and his voice echoed dramatically. “CUSTOMS.”

 

“That be better with some dramatic music.”Miguel said.

 

“Yeah I know.” Mortimer sighed. “Come with me though. We have some things to discuss.” He took Miguel through the darkness, then seemed to grab a door handle from out of the nothingness, pulling it open with a blast of light.

 

It lead to a very mundane office, with phones ringing and voices chatting. There were other figures there like Mortimer, though not quite the same. There was a giant owl with long legs using a copy machine. They had on  necklace of light up stars and one long leg was holding a coffee cup covered in constellations. In a cubicle they passed there was dog that looked like Donte, but he was pitch black with red eyes, dressed in a tie. He was barking angrily into a phone receiver.

 

“This way.” Mortimer took Miguel through another door. This room was more what he expected. Dark, candle lit, a large foreboding desk that would have likely been more impressive had Miguel come in the door at the front of the room, rather than behind the desk itself. There was a small chair on the other side, which Mortimer had Miguel sit in. As Mortimer sat down Miguel realized something about the specters chair.

 

“Is that one of those spinny chairs?” Miguel asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

“If I came in that door, would have done that dramatic spin the chair around, ‘we’ve been expecting you’ stuff?”

 

“...Yes.”

 

“Ok.” Miguel blinked.

 

“Yeah, sorry. Like I said, we don’t have many people coming through backwards.” Mortimer shrugged. “That darkness you walked into? That supposed to be walking into the light.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah, it's more impressive the way your supposed to go in. Like an amusement park, you know, once you go into the staff area the magic is just, poof, gone.” He said, waving his hand dismissively. “Sorry you had to see the office, by the by, doors open one way.”

 

“Isn’t that a fire hazard?” Miguel asked.  

“Oh yeah, I’m sure everyone in there is worried about a fire.” Mortimer sighed. “Anyway. Let me just- where is it…” He shuffled through some papers on the desk. “Ok, ok… ugh- Oh! Here its is… Is there an english side?” He picked up a laminated paper, which was decorated in skulls and black, creepy type. He flipped it over, the front the same as the back, but he seemed pleased. “Oh here it is. Ok! Ok…”

 

Mortimer mumbled and read it over. “Ok, _spin chair around_ \- yeadah yeadah- _been expecting you_ \- kid called that one- blah blah blah- oh, ok.” He put it down and suddenly gustured in effect. “Miguel Rivera. Your are dead!!!”

 

Thunder crashed loudly.

 

“What was that?!” Miguel asked, sinking into the chair.

 

“Its to help the mood. First death is something people expect to be a magical experience. Not all ‘sign this document’ or ‘we need to scan you face’ or ‘Please wait in the lobby while we inform your family.’ Sorta borning junk. So we spice it up, put on a show. Like a birthday party for a little kid.” He explained. “Thats just what happens when you say dead in here-”

 

Thunder crashed loudly.

 

“Whoa.” Miguel said and he sat back up straight. “Dead.”

 

Thunder crashed loudly.

 

“Dead!” Miguel shouted.

 

Thunder crashed even louder.

 

“Dead, dead, dead-!!”

 

“Ok, ok!” Mortimer yelled over the loud noise, stopping the boy. “I get it, its fun. It just loses the appeal the more you do it! Not to mention the machines gonna run out of batteries. Its like a light clapper.”

 

“Sorry…”

 

“No its fine, I did the same thing when I was young.” He shrugged. “Now, where were we- Ah yes. You are-! Ah, you know… D-e-a-d. Well to the land of the - yeah,yeah,yeah- land of history- blah blah- Not what your expecting- nah nah-” He grunted, putting the paper away. “Anyway, lets just forget that. What this room is basically for is making sure you don’t take anything with you but your clothes and what you're buried with.”

 

“You mean you CAN take things with you?” Miguel asked.

 

“Little things. So long as you have them in your casket or their cremated with you.” Mortimer shrugged. “Your offerings from the funeral will show up later, once they arrive, and will be mailed to you. For now just empty your pockets ok?”

 

Miguel emptied them. Mortimer mumbling as he took some gum, an elastic band, some coins pocket lint, and-”

 

“Thats Mama Imleda’s picture!” Miguel frowned when he took that as well.

 

“Yes and it is back with you body in the real world, your family will get it.” Mortimer explained, then with a slight of hand the objects vanished. “Now we can move on to the next part.”

 

“Ok, whats next?” Miguel asked hesitantly.

 

“We review your file.” He said, putting it up on the desk.

 

“Why? Whats in it?”

 

“Everything you are and everything you’ve ever done.” Mortimer said. He opened the file and flipped through it. “You see Miguel, the land of the- ergh- deceased isn’t the final destination many mistake it to be. Its just phase.”

 

“What do you mean?” Miguel asked.

 

“Well does this look like heaven or hedes or Nirvana or whatever else to you?” He chuckled. “This isn’t really the place the dead go to die-”

 

Thunder crashed

 

“Oh god damn it, uh- this is more like purgatory. Just not as tortchery as they explain it in life.” He said. “Think of it as a second chance to make up for things you have done in life. Here you don’t have to eat to survive, you can get hungry, but you won’t die. Here you don’t need much money. Here the houses are cheaper. That makes it easier, unlike in life, where you are trying to stay alive. That can make it difficult to be a good person. You steal to eat, you lie to get a job, you hurt other so you can live. You see what I’m saying?”

 

Miguel nodded.

 

“This world is a place where you can try to right your wrongs and this little meeting is to tell you where you can improve. It's like a parole, quality control, intro thing to help you get into a better place after your second death.” Mortimer continued.

 

“What is that place like?” Miguel asked.

 

“Trade secret.”

 

Miguel rolled his eyes.

 

“I know, I know.” Mortimer sighed. “But dems the rules. Let just say its nice okay?” He looked at Miguel’s file. “Ok, seems pretty good. There are somethings I’m seeing. A little lying, a little cheating- Wait, what did you call your cousin? A Conchita? Whats that mean?”

 

Miguel blushed. “I was five! We were fighting and I heard uncle Berto say it before, I didn’t know what it ment!”

 

“Rrrrright ok.” Mortimer said, looking onward. “Hmmm, gets a little messier towards the end, gonna say that's your adventure two nights ago…”

 

“Does that mean I’m not going to heaven after I die again?!” Miguel gasped.

 

“What?! No ,no ,no!” Mortimer scoffed. “It depends on how many bad things and of what caliber. I mean you age is also taken into account, as well as mental conditions and ect. See once youre done here, you get judged in a kinda court setting.” Mortimer held up his file. “Right now? I don’t see anything too horrible. You weren't perfect but nobody is. I don’t think a single person just gets into a better place right off the bat- except that Mr Rogers guy maybe- Look, the point is you may have to do some punishment, but its not burning lakes of fire level.”

 

“Then what is it?” He frowned.

 

“Well, from what I see here… Community service? Maybe they’ll have you sit and watch paint dry for a couple days. Honestly it depends who you get for a defense lawyer and- I’m getting off topic.” He sighed. “Frankly you have nothing to worry about. People under fifteen can’t get into hades anyway, they made some reforms about it in the middle ages, unless you do something really horrible and the judge overturns it.”

 

“So you guys know everything that everyone has ever done…?” Miguel said.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then how come Ernesto De La Cruz isn’t being punished or something?” Miguel asked. “He killed my great great grandfather! He killed me!”

 

“Kid his world isn't the punishment part. Like I said, it's your second chance.” Mortimer said. “We have no control over mortal affairs until you cross into the third world. So until then its client confidentiality. We cannot go telling everyone what people did wrong, how could anyone get a second chance? If Ernesto had changed his ways, had repented and tried to make amends, as I’m sure he was told to do in an office like this one, he might have gotten a lesser sentence in the third world.” Mortimer huffed. “Now? I don’t even wanna think about his chances.”

 

“So you can’t do anything?” Miguel asked.

 

“Not here no.” Mortimer shrugged. “Not my job or jurisdiction anyway.”

 

Miguel leaned back, sighing. “Great. Then what do I do?”

 

“Why are you asking me? You have an influence in the second world. I’m sure you’ll think of something. Maybe just try to do something closer to home?” Mortimer said. “Help clean up around the house, be nice, be a kid. You’ll have no problem getting into the good place. Just don’t kill anybody.”

 

“Sounds easy enough.” Miguel muttered.

 

“Yeah you’d think right?” Mortimer chuckled. “Ok so thats the meeting, not much to it.”

 

“We’re done? Just like that?” Miguel blinked.

 

“Yeah, see how boring this is without the pageantry?” He chuckled. “We haven't had anyone cursed for a long time. Guess good old fashioned dark magic went out of style a while ago.”

 

“When was the last time someone was cursed?” Miguel asked, both of them standing up.

 

“Hmm. My sister was graduating so… fourteen hundreds. Lest in this office.” He shrugged. “According to the files.”

 

“How old are you?” Miguel gapped

 

“A gentleman never asks and a lady never tells.” Mortimer laughed. “Lets just say I’m pretty old.” Miguel was lead to the door and let Mortimer open it for him. “You just head back towards the light on this side and you’ll be back. Make sure you have your eyes with you.”

 

Miguel looked back up at Mortimer. Squinting at where he suspected the being’s face was… He had a hunch but…

 

“Are you an angel?”

 

Mortimer laughed softly. “That's another trade secret.”

 

Then shut the door.

___________________________

 

Miguel walked down the hall until he saw a bright light getting closer and closer. It got blinding, so he closed his eyes and pushed on, only to trip on something. Again.

 

He managed to stay on his feet and opened his eyes. All he saw was darkness. He felt around in his hoodie pockets and pulled out the glass eyes. He put one to his socket, grimacing as it slid in haltingly. He blinked it a few times, but nothing changed.

 

“What the-?”

 

“Hold on Miguel.” Ximena’s voice called out and shoes clicked closer on stone floors. Someone took his chin and tilted it. “You put it in backward. Hold still.”

 

Miguel felt the eye turn around its socket. It wasn’t the greatest feeling… However he was soon able to see out of it, so there was improvement. He was in another hallway, different from before. It was rather plain and lead towards two large doors. Looking back he saw the hallway faded into the darkness that he had stumbled out of.

 

“Lets put your other one in and then I’ll take you out the service door. Wouldn’t want anyone in the waiting room to think your their family arriving.” Ximena smiled, gesturing to Miguel's other glass ball.

 

The boy made sure this one went in the right way. Still unnerved by the sensation.

 

“Your grandmother is waiting for us!” She spoke as she took Miguel down a small side hall and to a smaller door. “Everything is in order, so you can head home!”

 

“Oh, thanks.” Miguel said.

 

They came out the door and no one in the waiting room even noticed them. Ximena took him back to the entrance of the building, where Imelda was waiting for him.

 

“How was it?” Imelda asked.

 

“Weird, but interesting.”

 

“I’m sure it was.” She smiled softly, holding up some papers. “We have everything we needed. We can go.”

 

“That wasn’t a complex as I thought it be.” Miguel said.

 

“On your side maybe.” Imelda sighed and looked to their host. “Thank you very much señora Delgado. You were very helpful.”

 

“I do my best.” She chuckled. “You two have a good day now.”

 

As they walked back down the steps of the building, Miguel looked up at his Grandmother. “What are the… people that work customs?”

 

“I’m not sure. They are friendly enough, so I don’t complain.” Imelda shrugged.

 

“Are they angels?” Miguel asked.

 

That had Imelda pausing, pursing her lips. “Maybe? I’m not sure. The bible often says angels frightened people whenever they appeared.Perhaps a few of them are, but not all.” She huffed. “Never mind that though. We must be getting home. I have some more work to to. Its a little past two now.”

 

“I was gone that long?” Miguel was shocked.

 

“Yes. Time moves differently in that place, it's strange.” Imelda said. “However it happens though, its above our pay grade. So its best to not think about it.”

 

“What did they tell you, when you went in?” Miguel asked.

 

Imelda looked away through the crowd for a few minutes.

 

“We should get home.” She said, taking his hand and leading him back to the trollies.

 

In the afternoon rush taking the Trolley took twice as long. Neither said a word as they traveled, Miguel wondering if he had crossed some kind of line. Considering how she hadn’t taken her shoe off, he was guessing it wasn’t to bad.

 

They walked back up to the house, Miguel following her in silence. Once it came into view though Miguel frowned. “Mama Imelda?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“I know things are hard with Papa Hector, but I think he deserves another chance.” Miguel said softly. “I dunno if you really know what happened.”

 

Imelda said nothing in response.

 

“He went through a lot-”

 

“We all went through a lot Miguel.” Imelda muttered, pausing in front of the door. “It's not something to concern yourself with. You don’t know everything that happened.” She started to open the door

 

“But neither do-”

 

Wham!

 

Miguel yelled out as he toppled to the ground. Things rattled around and when he opened his eyes he realized his head had popped off.

 

Wonderful.

 

He could feel his body was still whole though. Something was on top of it. He put his hands on it, trying to push back, when something wet touched him. “Ah! What the-” Miguel stopped mid sentence when the thing jumped off him. He hard it step over and stand above his head. Miguel looked up, just as something dripped onto his head.

 

“DANTE!” Miguel smiled. The dog barked at him, licking Miguel’s face with his long tongue.

 

“Easy there! You knocked him apart!” Hector’s voice came and Miguel felt his body lift off the ground. “Dante! Down boy!”

 

“You found him!’ Miguel laughed. His grandfather lifted his head up next and popped it back on his neck.

 

“Was there any doubt?” He asked slyly, moving out of the way as the dog ran back, licking at Miguel ecstatically.

 

“What happened to him?”

 

“He was picked up by the pound. Apparent there was a noise complaint, he was barking up a storm.” Hector said, petting the dog. “He was safe the whole time.”

 

“I’m just glad he’s ok now that he’s home.” Miguel spoke, scratching the dog behind his ear.

 

“Miguel, he can’t stay. He’s a living dog.” Imelda said, though it wasn’t unsympathetic. “He should live out the rest of his life.”

 

Miguel frowned. “But- but he’s like a spirit guide! He knew Hector was my real papa! He was trying to lead me!”

 

“Come on Imelda. He’s a good dog… mostly.” Hector winced.

 

“Ok so he’s a good dog, but he is alive.” Imelda said sadly. “If he was an alebrije then maybe but-” Imelda froze, staring down at Dante with wide eyes. Hector and Miguel looked down as well. Starting at Dante’s bottom a rainbow of colors started to spread. Dante didn’t seem to notice, though he started to itch aggressively, but they kept going until he was a bright and shiny alebrije.

 

Imelda put a hand to her face.

 

“Well?” Miguel asked, trying to put on a pleading face. “Can he stay? Pppppllllleeeeaaaseeee?!”

 

“Plllllllleeeeeeeaaaassseeee?!” Hector joined him, hands clasped in a begging motion.

 

Imelda didn’t look up. “¿Qué está pasando con mi vida después de la muerte?” She muttered into her palm before she sighed. “Yes. He can stay.”

 

“Yeah!” Hector and Miguel linked hands, jumping up and down excitedly.

 

“But if I step in any caca then there will be heck to pay.” She said, going inside. “So keep the yard clean.”

 

“Yes’um!” Miguel laughed as he, Dante and Hector went inside. Miguel had to admit, after today, things were so bad. Maybe things would be ok.

 

For now at least.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That one ended better than the last, didn't it? Next chapter Miguel's going to get into more hi-jinx, meet some new people, and maybe start to get to work on that whole 'Ernesto is a murder' thing. He'll also be getting some more echos, though none as traumatic as that last one. 
> 
> As for what happened to Victoria? We'll have to wait and see. 
> 
> (By the by, I figured out that I misunderstood Victoria's name. I thought Tia was like a shorter form of Victoria in Spanish, like how Kike is short for Enrique. I have no training in Spanish so I didn't understand that's what Tia means. Aunt. I'm gonna keep it for now, but if enough people hate it then I can be convinced to change it. On a side note, I'll tell you a funny story that goes with this. When I was in school I had a Spanish classmate named Tiodora. Everyone in class called her Tia or Tio. Which I'm now, and only now, sure she found very funny.

**Author's Note:**

> So I should also note that I know no Spanish. So any help with that would be good to! (Edit: Also thanks to everyone for their help with corrections!)


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